


Circles of Influence

by marysiak



Series: The Marks We Bear [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Daily Prophet, Death Eaters, First Time, Good Draco Malfoy, Hogwarts Fifth Year, M/M, Oral Sex, Order of the Phoenix AU, Paganism, Samhain, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Yule
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-18
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-05-27 12:20:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 25
Words: 131,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6284314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marysiak/pseuds/marysiak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The sequel to The Marks We Bear. Harry is in denial once more after Mrs Weasley catches him and Draco together. Can Ron and Hermione get him to see reason? In the meantime Voldemort wants Draco dead. Harry and Draco have to deal with the aftermath of the events in Marks as more and more people become involved in their lives and find out about their relationship. How does Sirius feel about his godson being gay? Will Narcissa sell Draco out to his father? Can Molly Weasley accept that 15 year olds have relationships? And what about the School Governors and the press? See the series notes for more info on AU nature of this universe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The sequel to The Marks We Bear. I have forced myself to finish this story which I started writing in 2002 and until now (2016) haven't touched since 2004. The series follows canon up until book 4 and then diverges into AU. You must read The Marks We Bear before reading this as they follow directly on from one another. In fact the first chapter of Circles was originally intended to be the last chapter of Marks and finish the story but I got carried away.

The Marks We Bear II: Circles of Influence  
by Marysia (April-May 2002)  
http://www.marysia.com/  
Rating: NC-17  
Pairings: Harry/Draco

Summary: Harry is in denial once more after Mrs Weasley catches him and Draco together. Can Ron and Hermione get him to see reason? In the meantime Voldemort wants Draco dead. Harry/Draco slash.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

\-------------------------------

**Sunday 12th Oct**

Harry woke up feeling incredibly stiff and sore. Every muscle in his body seemed to ache from the tension and the torture he'd endured yesterday. After a minute he began fidgeting under the weight of Draco's body, which was draped half over him as usual, trying to find a more comfortable position to lie in.

Draco grunted and woke up. "Wha's matter?" he asked into Harry's neck.

"Nothing except that you're cutting off all the blood to my arm," Harry complained.

Draco responded by rolling off his arm and on top of the rest of him so that they were nose to nose. "Better?"

"I am suddenly very aware that you didn't brush your teeth last night," Harry noted.

Draco rolled his eyes and sat up, straddling Harry's waist. "Well, you're in a fine mood this morning."

"It's my normal morning-after-being-tortured mood, actually," sniped Harry. "My whole body hurts and my mouth tastes like ... something horrible that my head hurts too much to think up."

Draco looked down at him. "You are a bit of a mess."

It was true, what with the old marks from the previous night and the new bruises inflicted by Voldemort plus the general grime you picked up while being dragged around a dungeon... "I really need a bath," said Harry.

"Me too," said Draco. "And a toothbrush. Let's go find a bathroom."

They got up and threw on the dressing gowns Mrs Weasley had left for them next to the pyjamas that they hadn't bothered to put on last night. It was pretty early, the sun wasn't long up and everyone else was still asleep. Harry led Draco down the hall to the bathroom and they locked the door behind them. He poked through the toothbrushes then finally selected one at random.

"How do you know which one to use?" Draco asked. "Do you keep one here?"

"Nah," said Harry. "I just picked one."

Draco made a disgusted face.

"What?"

"You can't just use someone else's toothbrush."

"Why not? I need to brush my teeth."

"But it's... it's somebody else's toothbrush!"

Harry grinned and stuck it in his mouth. "Well now it's mine," he said. "You may as well use it too, I'll rub all the nasty other person germs off on my teeth and then you'll only have to deal with mine."

"No chance," said Draco. "It could be anyone's... for all you know that's the one they use to clean those hard to reach places behind the toilet."

Harry gave him a look of utter lack of concern and brushed his teeth.

Draco sighed and went off to start the bath running. When he turned back Harry handed him the toothbrush. "Fine," he said in defeat. "But only because I know where it was last."

Harry stripped off his dressing gown and studied his battered body in the mirror. "I'm surprised Ron's Mum let me go to bed looking like this," he sighed.

"I think she was a bit distracted," Draco said around the toothbrush. "Besides, most of those bruises weren't so obvious last night."

Harry picked up his wand and began to heal the worst of the marks, when Draco was done with his teeth he joined him and by the time the bath was run Harry was pretty much unmarked. He checked himself over in the mirror to see if he'd missed anything then made a face. "Well, we fixed the bruises... shame about the rest."

"What do you mean?" said Draco as he removed his own dressing gown to get in the bath.

"Well... look at you and look at me," Harry said cryptically.

Draco joined him in front of the full-length mirror, wrapping his arms around Harry's waist and looking at the two of them. "You look pretty good to me," he said with a smile, kissing Harry's shoulder. "A little grubby but that's why we're having a bath."

"I just mean... look at you." Harry moved around so that Draco stood in front. "You're taller than me and you're all tanned and blonde and ..."

"Scarred," said Draco flatly. "At least your bruises go away."

"Not all of them," said Harry, touching his forehead lightly.

Draco's expression softened and he nodded at Harry in the mirror then turned around to face him. "Anyway, I don't know what you're talking about. I'm not that much taller than you and I don't see what being blonde has to do with anything."

"You're just so..." Harry shook his head and got to the point. "Beautiful. I don't know what you see in me."

Draco smiled. "I like that you don't think you're attractive," he said and kissed him before he could say something stupid like 'That's because I'm not'. "Now stop talking and get in the bath."

Harry climbed into the bath and lay down with a sigh. "Fine, but you are taller than me."

Draco joined him in the large tub. "You'll catch up," he said, settling himself over Harry's legs and picking up the shampoo. "Now stick your head in the water before I do it for you."

Harry stuck out his tongue at Draco then held his nose and ducked his entire head under the water. He opened his eyes and looked up through the swirling liquid, holding his breath. He could hear his heart beating. He ran his free hand through his hair, feeling bubbles of air tickle past his fingers. When his lungs started to ache he floated back up.

"Sit up," Draco ordered as soon as he surfaced.

Harry sat up and Draco immediately began shampooing his hair, which was made even more enjoyable by the way he had slid forward into Harry's lap to do so. Harry immediately started running his hands over Draco's warm, wet skin.

"Stop that," Draco muttered. "I'm trying to wash your hair."

"Stop what?" asked Harry innocently, tipping his head back to keep the soap out of his eyes and at the same time sliding his hands over Draco's hips to squeeze his arse.

Draco tried to pull forward out of Harry's grasp but that only pressed his front closer. "At least let me finish washing your hair first," he complained. "If I get soap in your eyes it'll be your own fault."

Harry pulled away from Draco's hands and in a swift movement splashed back into the water, holding his nose and with his eyes screwed shut. In a flurry of bubbles he rinsed the shampoo out of his hair and surfaced again. "My hair is washed," he declared before grabbing Draco and kissing him hungrily, his hands running down his back to return to their previous target.

Draco submitted for a few minutes before pulling away and catching Harry's hands in his own. He pinned them to Harry's sides. "I'm not finished washing you yet," he said commandingly but with a definite glint in his eyes. "So control yourself for five minutes and stand up."

"I can't stand up," Harry said mischievously. "Because you're sitting on my legs."

Draco pursed his lips and stood up himself, which put Harry's eye level somewhere very interesting indeed. Draco's groin seemed far more in tune with Harry's thoughts than the rest of Draco. But before Harry could do anything about that Draco pulled him to his feet as well. "I told you to stand up," he said in a voice that made Harry shiver in a very good way.

"Yes, sir," he said in his most lascivious tone.

Draco simply cocked an eyebrow.

 _'He is so sexy when he's aloof,'_ Harry thought.

Draco picked up the soap and began to wash him. Slowly. Inch by inch his fingers covered Harry's body in slick, white foam and then rinsed it back off. When his arms and torso were done Draco slid his hands down Harry's sides, knelt on one leg in the water and started on his feet.

"Draco..." Harry began.

"Shh.... learn a little patience," Draco told him.

Harry humphed and dug his nails into his palms.

Enjoying the slow build of tension, Draco lifted Harry's feet up one at a time and rested them on his thigh where he washed them meticulously from toe to knee. Then he looked up at Harry as he knelt in the water, resoaping his hands. He smiled and started working his way up from Harry's knees, which were feeling decidedly weak by this point.

Harry made an encouraging murmur as Draco got closer to the area Harry wanted his hands to be and finally a sigh of relief as slick fingers wrapped themselves around his erection and worked their way between his legs to massage his balls. Harry wrapped his arms around Draco's shoulders and they kissed as Draco stroked him. The soapy hand cupping his balls was withdrawn and moved around to massage his buttocks and finally slip between them. Harry broke off the kiss and licked his way to Draco's ear. "Mmm, please," he sighed as Draco's fingers ran lightly over his asshole.

"More?" asked Draco.

"More," pleaded Harry, hooking one leg around Draco to give him better access.

Draco steadied him with one arm around his back as he slid a soapy finger inside Harry. Their cocks were pressed together but their awkward position made it just about impossible to get any decent friction going. Draco pressed deeper.

"More," whispered Harry breathlessly, bucking back against his hand and then forward to crush their erections together again, fucking himself on Draco's finger.

Draco added another finger, finding Harry's mouth again and kissing it as he worked his fingers inside him.

After a moment Harry broke away. "Hold on," he said, his eyes bright with arousal. "Let me turn around, it'll be easier." They broke apart and Harry turned and braced himself against the tiled wall at the end of the bath. Glancing around he grabbed Draco's wand from the side of the bath and cast a Frictio charm to make the floor of the bath less slippery. He passed the wand back to Draco, “Here, use a lubrication charm, the soap stings a bit.” He put one foot up on the end of the bath and arched his back in a positively indecent way. He reached one hand back behind him and pulled Draco up against him. "Like this."

Draco cast the charm on both his hands, dropped the wand back over the side of the bath and reached around and took hold of Harry's cock as his fingers slid back inside Harry. With more room to move Harry began to thrust back hard against him.

"Yes, that's it," he gasped. But he still wanted more, he realised. He wanted Draco closer, closer than fingers and hands. "I want you," he told him. "I want you inside me."

"I'm right here," said Draco, missing Harry's intent altogether.

Harry moaned in pleasure as Draco added a third finger. "Yes," he hissed losing track for a moment and thrusting against him. But in a moment he felt that need again. "No, I mean I want you. I want you inside me, I want you to fuck me."

"What?" Draco's hands stilled, his fingers buried deep inside him. "You mean... can you do that?"

"Yes, definitely yes," Harry reached down, balancing precariously, and picked up Draco's wand from the side of the bath. He waved it behind him in Draco's general direction. "More lube."

Draco stood frozen in indecision for a moment, staring at the proffered wand.

"Draco?" Harry craned his head around. "If you don't want to..." he started, sounding a little disappointed.

Draco met his eyes and the desire he saw in them knocked him out of his fugue state. He wriggled his fingers inside Harry and heat blossomed through him at the expression that crossed Harry's face. "You like that?" he whispered slyly.

"Yesss," hissed Harry then gave a drawn out gasp as Draco slowly, very slowly, removed all three fingers completely. "Oh, fuck!" he swore faintly.

Draco rinsed his fingers in the bath and took the wand from Harry's limp fingers. "Still sure?" he asked, his voice no longer uncertain as he purposefully retook his usual dominant position.

Harry grinned at Draco's visible attitude change. "You want me to beg?" he teased.

Draco tightened his hold on Harry's erection making him gasp. "I wouldn't be so cheeky with my hand where it is," he warned.

Harry looked back at him through lowered lashes, affected by Draco's tone. "I'm still sure," he murmured.

Draco leaned forward and kissed him possessively, still holding onto Harry a little more tightly than necessary. "Good," he said. "Lubricans." Harry turned back and braced himself against the wall as Draco steadied him with his wand hand, pressing the wood of his wand along Harry's raised thigh and sending shivers of magical energy through both of them. He released Harry's erection and brought his hand around to guide his own into place. For a moment he felt that same apprehension return at the magnitude of what they were about to do. What if he did it wrong? What if he hurt him?

Harry reached behind him again, as if sensing Draco's thoughts, and covered Draco's hand with his own. "Please, Draco," he whispered.

Draco smiled, pressing forward against Harry, but not hard enough to break past the ring of muscle. "Please what?" he purred.

"Please, Draco. Please fuck me," Harry moaned, arching his back further to thrust himself against the head of Draco's cock.

Draco pressed forward slowly. "Tell me if I hurt you," he whispered.

Harry moaned in reply, his hand moving to grip Draco's hip, encouraging him forward.

After what felt like an eternity of new and very pleasant sensation Draco found himself fully embedded in Harry's body, his front flush to Harry's back, his face tucked over Harry's shoulder near enough to see his profile. His eyes were closed, his lips slightly parted and his face flushed and damp. His eyes flickered open and he turned slightly to look at Draco. "Is this what you wanted?" Draco asked quietly, almost afraid that Harry would realise the enormity of the moment and panic.

Harry smiled at him. "Yes," he answered simply and leaned round further to touch his lips to Draco's, bringing one hand away from the wall to touch Draco's cheek.

For a long moment they kissed, growing more passionate, occasionally punctuated by a gasp from Harry as Draco throbbed inside him.

When they broke away Harry said, "I swear I can feel your heart beating inside me."

Draco felt a bubble of laughter inside him. He reached around and took hold of Harry's erection again. "Can you feel that?" he teased.

In answer Harry bucked his hips forward and then back causing them both to gasp. "Did you feel that?" Harry responded with fire.

"Oh, I feel that," Draco answered. "Now feel this..." he began to thrust into Harry, matching his strokes with the hand on his cock.

After that there was nothing much to say, just intense focus and the sound of flesh on flesh and meaningless words and pleas and curse words and pledges of devotion that came from somewhere far deeper than the conscious mind.

As Draco felt himself nearing that still unfamiliar edge he tightened his grasp on Harry and bit down into the other boy's shoulder.

"Close," Harry muttered between panted breaths, arching his neck back as he tangled one hand in Draco's hair, the other braced against the wall. "Harder."

Draco obliged at both ends, digging his teeth further into Harry's skin and sucking as he thrust faster and harder into Harry's body, his fingers digging into his thigh. He moaned into Harry's skin. So close... nearly there.

"Coming..." Harry echoed his thoughts and then with a strangled grunt his body tensed around Draco.

Draco vaguely felt Harry's cock pulse in his hand as he sprayed the tiled wall in front of him, but was more absorbed by his own dizzying feelings. He wrapped the hand on Harry's leg tightly around his waist instead to hold himself up as he lost track of where he was. ' _Coming,_ _'_ he thought. ' _Coming inside Harry._ _'_ Then all he could see for a few moments was stars as he lost track of his own conscious mind.

When he came back to his senses he and Harry were on their knees in the bath, still pressed tightly together. He could hear Harry gasping for breath, feel his diaphragm heaving under the arm that was wrapped around his waist. He wasn't the only one who needed to catch his breath.

"I can feel your heart beating through my back," Harry said eventually.

"What is this obsession with my heart beat?" Draco asked curiously.

Harry shrugged lightly, lying his arm on the end of the bath and resting his head on it. "I just like being able to feel it," he said.

Draco slid carefully out of Harry causing the other boy to moan softly in a mixture of pleasure and loss. He stretched out in the bath and pulled Harry around and against him, they snuggled close and within a few minutes were both asleep in the warm water.

\--------------

They were woken by a knock on the bathroom door and the second they moved they realised the water was not even lukewarm any more.

"Water's freezing," Draco murmured.

"Mmph," said Harry.

There was another knock at the door. "Harry?" called Mrs Weasley. "Harry are you in there? Are you all right?"

The two boys woke up fully and exchanged horrified glances. "I'm fine!" Harry replied. "I just... fell asleep in the bath. I'm sorry."

"That's okay, dear," said Mrs Weasley. "But please do hurry, Arthur needs to get ready for work."

"I'll be out in a few minutes."

"They only have one bathroom?" said Draco in shocked surprise.

Harry gave him a 'not now' look and scrambled out of the tepid water.

"I haven't even washed yet," exclaimed Draco and began frantically washing his hair.

"Draco, we don't have... oh no, the wall!" Harry had just noticed the drying come stuck to the tiles. He grabbed a washcloth and scrubbed the wall clean.

"Hey, I need the cloth," Draco complained.

Harry finished and threw it back to him. "Here."

Draco let it fall into the water. "That's okay, I'll pass," he said, stepping out the bath.

Harry pulled out the plug and scrubbed at the ring they had left behind them.

"Won't the house elves do that?"

"Will you shut up," Harry ground out in exasperation. "In about 60 seconds I'm going to open that door and chances are Ron's parents are both going to be standing right outside and it's going to take them no time at all to figure out what we were doing in here."

"Oh," said Draco succinctly and shut up.

They finished drying themselves and put on their dressing gowns then turned to face the door.

 _'_ _I'm not going to blush,_ _'_ Harry told himself, but he could feel himself going crimson before he even touched the door handle.

 _'_ _Just keep your mouth shut,_ _'_ thought Draco to himself. ' _Let Harry do the talking. They know Harry, they like Harry..._ _'_

Harry opened the door. Waiting outside were Mr and Mrs Weasley.

"Harry..." The moment Mrs Weasley's eyes swept past Harry and fell on Draco, the normally unflappable boy went bright red. The four of them stared at one another... the adults with surprise and the boys with horror and intense embarrassment.

"I..." began Harry. "We... um..." Then he bolted and ran for the twins room leaving Draco standing alone in the bathroom door.

"Uh..." he said and then ran after Harry leaving the two adults looking after them.

"Well," said Mr Weasley with bemusement. "That was odd."

"Yes," agreed his wife with a far less casual tone. "You better get ready for work or you'll be late. I think I need to go and have a word with Ron."

\-----------

Draco slammed the door shut and locked it behind him. "You ran away!" he accused Harry.

"She knows," Harry gasped from where he was sprawled on his back on the floor. "I could tell. What are we going to do?"

Draco leant against the door and slid down to the ground. "I don't know, you know her better than I do. Should we lie?"

"What could we possibly say? We were in the bathroom together, with the door locked, and I already told her I was in the bath and both of us had wet hair..."

"We could say...." Draco thought for a moment. "Okay, I've got it. You asked me to fix up some bruises and stuff from last night cause you were too embarrassed to undress in front of Mrs Weasley or Hermione and Ron doesn't do medical magic, but you knew I had studied it at home. My hair was wet cause I had a bath before you. Completely innocent and fairly plausible."

"Really?"

"She likes you doesn't she? She'll believe you."

"You're a genius."

"I know," said Draco smugly and crawled over to lie on the floor next to Harry.

As their heart rates returned to normal Harry suddenly remembered just what they'd been doing that he had been so worried Mrs Weasley would know about. "Wow," he said softly.

"Hmm?"

"I mean... wow. We really... did it," said Harry.

Draco grinned and rolled onto his side, facing Harry. "I guess we did. Which means now you only have to win the Quidditch World Cup and watch Babylon 5."

"Huh?" said Harry.

"Before you die," Draco reminded him.

"Oh, yeah," said Harry, remembering their previous conversation.

Draco thought for a minute. "So, technically, did we both lose our virginity or just you?"

Harry rolled over to face him with a matching silly grin on his face. "I think both."

Draco reached out and stroked his cheek and jawline, then pulled him into a kiss, their limbs twining together. Then he said wonderingly, "So, I deflowered the great Harry Potter."

"I'm definitely florally challenged," replied Harry with a smirk. "And I seem to recall you were pretty great too."

"The Boy Who Got Fucked?" Draco suggested.

"Which makes you The Boy Who Fucked The Boy Who Got Fucked," Harry replied.

"You know I really like that word," said Draco.

"What word?"

"Fuck," he said with relish. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fucking, fucked...." he trailed off and returned to kissing Harry.

\-----------

Molly Weasley rapped loudly on her son's door and then marched straight in. "Ron!" she barked. "Wake up this instant."

Ron shot from deep sleep into a startled upright position. "It wasn't me!" he blurted.

"No, it wasn't," she assured him. "But you've still got some explaining to do."

"Huh?"

"Is Harry gay?"

Ron went red. "What makes you say that?" he hedged.

"Just answer the question, Ronald."

"Why don't you ask him?" he said hopefully.

"Ronald!"

"Yes, he's gay," Ron admitted.

"And what exactly is going on between Harry and Draco Malfoy?"

"Umm... nothing?" he hazarded.

"Are they or are they not a couple, Ronald."

"I really don't think..."

"I want an answer."

"Maybe," Ron conceded.

"So you're telling me that you talked me into putting two boys who are dating into the same room for the night."

"Er... yes... but..."

"But nothing!" Mrs Weasley snapped. "Next you'll be asking me to let Hermione sleep in here with you. I will not have children fooling around under my roof! Six boys I've had," she ranted. "Six! And not one of them has..." Her tirade faded away as she left the room, slamming the door behind her.

Ron sighed, thought about trying to save Harry from his mother's sudden attack of prudishness, then decided to go back to sleep instead.

\----------

Half way out of their dressing gowns on the bedroom floor, Harry and Draco were interrupted by a loud knock on the door.

"Harry Potter! Unlock this door immediately or I'll do it myself," ordered Ron's Mum.

Harry and Draco sprang apart and scrambled to their feet. "Shit," swore Harry. "I totally forgot about her." He retied his robe. "I'll be right there Mrs Weasley," he called. "I'm just.... getting dressed."

"Oh great," said Draco. "Now she'll think we were naked."

"Well she wouldn't be wrong," Harry muttered. "Anyway, the story, she knows we were in our dressing gowns when we left the bathroom. Why shouldn't we be getting dressed?" Harry suddenly realised he didn't have anything to get dressed in, having arrived in his underclothes. "Shit," he said again holding up his very grubby vest.

Draco threw on his robes. "I have a very bad feeling about all this," he told Harry.

Harry straightened his dressing gown and unlocked the door. "Er..." he said to the very irate looking Mrs Weasley. "I don't seem to have any clothes? Could I borrow some of Ron's?"

Mrs Weasley swept the room with the practiced gaze of a mother. Two unused pairs of pyjamas and one untouched bed. She levelled an extremely disapproving look at Draco and then turned back to Harry with only a slight decrease in her glare. "Sleep well?" she asked pointedly.

"I... er..." stuttered Harry. "Yes?"

"I do not appreciate being made a fool of in my own home," she stated.

"Um... I don't...."

"There will be no more joint trips to the bathroom..."

"But we...."

"...and there will be no more sleeping in the same room and don't think I won't be warning Professor Dumbledore to keep an eye on you two at school! I would never have allowed you to share the room if I had realised..."

Suddenly Draco spoke up from where he stood behind Harry. "How dare you speak to us in that manner!" he said, in a voice Harry hadn't heard from him in a long time. His tone was cold, angry and imperious.

"Draco, no!" Harry hissed.

Draco didn't seem to hear him, his eyes were cold and hard and somewhere deep inside, if you looked carefully enough, they were frightened. "We are not your children, for which I am very grateful, and you have no right to tell us what to do or to speak to the school about us. So you can stay out of our business."

Harry's mouth dropped in complete shock and horror at what Draco had just said.

Mrs Weasley was beyond furious. "You think I don't have the right to say what will and will not happen in my house!" she shouted. "You think Harry isn't my business when I'm the closest thing to a mother he's got! You think that one good deed gives you the right to speak to me in that manner!" She looked as if she wanted to slap him. "You insolent, spoiled brat. You think you can walk all over us because you're a Malfoy! Get out of my house. I'll see you never get near Harry again..."

"Please, stop," Harry begged, not sure if he was asking Draco to stop this or Mrs Weasley to take back what she had just said.

"I wouldn't stay in this house another moment," said Draco. "I should never have come here in the first place, I don't know what I was thinking." Then he pushed past Mrs Weasley and stalked out of the room.

Harry raced after him. "Draco, wait," he called. "Where are you going?"

"I've been asked to leave," Draco said evenly, his face blank. "I'm leaving."

"I'll come with you."

"That won't be necessary and I very much doubt Mrs Weasley would allow it."

True to his words Mrs Weasley's hand fell on Harry's shoulder. "Harry," she said. "Leave him be. Arthur will arrange for him to get back to school."

At that moment Mr Weasley wandered out the bathroom. "What? Is Draco leaving already?"

"No!" said Harry.

"Yes," said Draco and Mrs Weasley in tandem.

Mr Weasley looked a little bewildered. "Well... er... right then. I'll just Floo him to Hogsmeade, shall I?"

Harry turned to Mrs Weasley. "This is a mistake," he tried to explain. "A misunderstanding."

"Harry, dear," she said gently. "I know you're grateful to him for saving you all last night, but I think this is for the best. You're too young for all this and he's clearly a bad influence on you." She shot Draco a murderous glare for daring to seduce her surrogate son.

Draco looked blankly back at her then turned away and disappeared down the stairs.

"You don't understand," said Harry. "He's not normally like that, I don't know why he said those things, but I'm sure he didn't mean it. Just let me talk to him..."

"Come along to Ron's room and we'll find you some clothes," she said, ignoring him and steering him away from the stairs. "We'll have a nice breakfast and you can tell me how you're doing at school."

Downstairs, Draco walked straight out the house and stared blankly around the garden. He had no idea where he was going, but he had to get away. Part of him was yearning to go home, that child deep within you that always turns to it's mother when it's in pain, but that was out of the question. He supposed he should go back to school, but the thought of going back to Slytherin House chilled him. He thought longingly of the nights he had spent with Harry and then ruthlessly cut off the thought. That was over, thanks to the Weasleys his one source of comfort was gone. The Weasleys and his own stupid carelessness. He had gotten lazy, if he had just thought things through a little bit more this might never have happened. If they had been more careful, less wrapped up in their own little world... but it was too late for that now.

Draco raised his wand and disapparated.

\----------------

Harry sat numbly at the breakfast table dressed in robes that were several inches too long for him. Across from him Mrs Weasley poured tea and chattered about something inconsequential. Every now and then Harry would nod or mutter something to give the impression he was listening.

Inside he was slowly falling apart. Draco had gone and it was his fault. Just like Uncle Vernon had always said, it was all true. He'd ruined everything cause he couldn't stay out of Draco's pants and Mrs Weasley had blamed Draco when it had been him all along. He'd kissed Draco first, he'd always been the one to push for more, the one who took things too far, the one who begged Draco to fuck him like some sort of cheap slut... like those men in the street showing themselves off to whoever happened to be driving by.

Draco deserved better than him. After everything he had risked for him and his friends, he deserved better.

He probably wasn't even gay, it was Harry that was the pervert not Draco. He'd led him on, seduced him and then let him take the fall when they got found out. If he'd just stayed away from him Draco would be fine.

Instead he was who knew where, he hadn't waited for Mr Weasley but had left on his own.

Harry just hoped he'd gone back to Hogwarts where he'd be safe. Safe from Voldemort, safe from his father and most of all... safe from Harry.


	2. Chapter 2

The Marks We Bear II: Circles of Influence  
by Marysia (April-May 2002)  
http://www.marysia.com/  
Rating: NC-17  
Pairings: Harry/Draco

Summary: Harry is in denial once more after Mrs Weasley catches him and Draco together. Can Ron and Hermione get him to see reason? In the meantime Voldemort wants Draco dead. Harry/Draco slash.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

\--------------

**Sunday 12th Oct**

Ron walked into the kitchen and started filling his face almost immediately. "I thought I heard shouting earlier," he said through a mouthful of sausages. "Is everything all right?"

"Everything's fine, dear," answered Mrs Weasley.

"Where's Malfoy?" he asked Harry. "Still asleep?"

"He's gone," said Harry in a hollow voice.

"Gone where?" Ron asked in confusion.

"He left," his voice started to crack. "He left and I don't know where he is." He stood up and ran out of the kitchen.

Ron stared after him in surprise then turned to his mother. "What happened? Did they have a fight?"

Mrs Weasley looked slightly uneasy. "I... ah.... I asked Draco to leave."

"What? Why?"

"He was very rude," she said defensively.

"But he's always rude," said Ron. "I think it's in his blood."

"Don't question me Ron," she said looking guilty.

"But you can't throw him out," Ron argued. "He saved our lives last night. I mean I know he's an ass and he probably only did it because of Harry but still, that has to count for something."

Mrs Weasley got up and began to rearrange the dirty dishes. "I don't want to discuss it," she said firmly.

"What did he say anyway? Was this about them sleeping in the same room?" Ron persisted.

Mrs Weasley refused to answer.

Ron sighed and stuffed another sausage into his mouth before going off to find Harry.

He found him sitting on a rock in the garden staring at the grass, when Harry saw him he turned away abruptly and it looked suspiciously like he was wiping away tears.

"You crying?" asked Ron.

"No," snapped Harry, still not looking at him.

"Sorry for whatever happened with my Mum, she won't tell me but she looked pretty guilty about something. I'm sure she was over-reacting, Weasley temper and all that. It comes from her side of the family, you know."

"It doesn't matter, it was my fault anyway," Harry said hoarsely.

"If it was your fault how come Malfoy was the one who got chucked out?" said Ron reasonably. "I bet I know exactly what happened. He said something rude to my Mum, she took a maddy and he went all haughty and got thrown out. Am I right?"

"She was angry because she caught us together in the bathroom," said Harry quietly. "She blamed him and he got angry and left."

"How's that your fault?"

"Look, I don't want to talk about it," repeated Harry. "It's over and done with and I just want to forget about it."

"Okay, don't take my head off. I guess it doesn't matter, after all we'll go back to school tomorrow and you'll see him again then anyway."

Harry shook his head. "I'm not going to see him again, ever. I told you, it's over."

"What?" Ron stared at him. "That's... er... great, I guess. Except... are you sure?"

"I don't even know where he is anyway, he left on his own. He could have gone anywhere."

"He wouldn't though, would he? I mean where would he go?"

Harry shrugged lifelessly.

"I'm sure he just went back to school," Ron tried to reassure him.

"It doesn't matter where he went," Harry persisted. "The whole thing was a mistake."

"Er... right." Ron sat with Harry a little longer then finally gave up and went back inside to see if Hermione was awake yet. Malfoy and Harry not being together any more should be a good thing as far as he was concerned, but the whole situation left him feeling very worried. Something was off and it wasn't just Malfoy.

\------------

Draco stood in the centre of Hogsmeade breathing in the cool, damp autumn air. He could smell the rotting of moss and fallen leaves and fungus in the air. It was foetid and suited his mood. He faced the road that eventually led to Hogwarts and contemplated whether to set foot on it or not.

He felt... stupid.

He had over-reacted. In the cool air of morning, with a little time passed, he was sure of it. The question was, had his over-reaction caused what he had most feared happening. Had he ruined everything? Could Mrs Weasley keep them apart?

There was nothing for it but to go back to school, it was as close to a home as he had now that he had betrayed his father and alone out here he felt exposed and unsafe. Everything was so uncertain these days. If he was seen by the wrong person.

Besides if there was help anywhere it was there, maybe Professor Snape could talk to Mrs Weasley for him. There must be something he could do to stop things getting any worse... he set off quickly down the road to school.

\----------------

**Monday 13th Oct**

Harry, Ron and Hermione arrived back at school in time for lunch, having Floo'd to Hogsmeade shortly after breakfast. Hermione was extremely worried about having missed the morning's classes, or at least kept up the impression of being so. But in truth she was still pale and a little shaky from the events of Saturday night and her protestations were not terribly convincing.

In fact the only one of them behaving half way normal was Ron. Neither of them had been able to get anything longer than one syllable out of Harry since Ron had spoken to him in the garden and, although he had seemed relieved when Dumbledore told Ron's Mum that Malfoy was back at school, he was still adamant that his relationship with Malfoy was over and refused to explain exactly why.

They entered the Great Hall, sending a buzz of conversation around it, and Malfoy immediately stood up from the end of the Slytherin table and came over to them.

"I'm so glad you're back," he said to Harry. "Were things too awful with Mrs Weasley? Professor Snape told me she didn't say anything to Dumbledore about us after all. Did she yell at you?"

Harry stared at Malfoy for a moment then said, "I told her she didn't have to. I told her that it was over."

"And she believed you?"

"Yes," Harry replied shortly.

"That's great, then there's nothing to worry about." Malfoy smiled. "I wish you'd sent me an owl to say, I've been frantic about it."

"I thought I should tell you in person," Harry told him.

Ron and Hermione exchanged a worried look.

"It's over, Draco."

"What?" Malfoy looked confused.

"Us," said Harry quietly but intensely. "It's over. It was a mistake, I'm sorry."

"What?" said Malfoy again, seemingly unable to take it in, but behind the confusion there was dawning pain. "But... what?" he repeated.

"I'm sorry," said Harry roughly and turned away to go to the Gryffindor table.

Malfoy caught at his robes, trying to stop him. "Harry..."

Harry just kept walking leaving Malfoy standing by Ron and Hermione with his hand stretched out. Hermione looked between the two of them, not knowing what to say.

"I don't understand," said Malfoy quietly, sounding lost.

It was Ron who finally spoke up. "I don't either, he won't talk to us. He's hardly said a word since you left the Burrow."

Malfoy looked at him helplessly.

"Just..." Ron shook his head. "Just give us a couple of days to find out what he's thinking."

Malfoy looked after Harry. "A couple of days?" he said stricken, he sounded as though he'd been asked to wait years not days. "Is it because I left? Or... what I said to your Mum? I'll apologise. Tell him I'll apologise to her."

"I don't know," said Ron gently. He looked after Harry who had sat down and was ignoring all three of them. "Can you meet us later?" he asked finally. "You can tell us exactly what happened with my Mum since neither of them will. Maybe it'll give us somewhere to start."

Malfoy seemed to grasp at that crumb. "Where?"

Ron thought. "Library," he answered. "After dinner." He started to escort Hermione away.

"Weasley," Malfoy stopped him. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you care if Harry doesn't want to see me any more?"

Ron looked annoyed at being asked. "I don't," he said. "But he's not happy."

Malfoy nodded and went back to the Slytherin table silently.

\----------

Hermione and Ron sat at a table in the library waiting for Malfoy to show. It hadn't been hard to get away without Harry, he hardly seemed to notice they were there anyway. Hermione was reading over some notes she had borrowed from Parvati on this morning's classes.

Malfoy strode into the room looking very irritated and was followed moments later by Crabbe, Goyle and a couple of older Slytherins who were walking in an extremely nonchalant manner. "I can't shake them," he hissed at Ron. "We'll need to go somewhere they can't follow us."

"What?" said Ron in confusion.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Them," he said, jerking his head in the direction of the Slytherins. "Follow me, I'll explain once we get some privacy."

Bemused, Ron and Hermione followed Malfoy out of the library and through a convoluted maze of stairs and corridors. Finally he stopped at a wooden door, looking behind them the Slytherins were nowhere to be seen.

"It's charmed," he said, opening the door. "Anyone who intends to harm me can't enter this corridor." He gave Ron a wry look. "Guess that's your reputation for hating me blown for good."

Ron chose to ignore that.

"That's a pretty tricky spell," said Hermione. "Where did you learn it?"

"I didn't," said Malfoy, opening the door and leading them into a small bedroom. "Dumbledore cast it after Snape told him Voldemort had ordered me killed."

"What?" said Hermione, aghast.

Malfoy shrugged. "It wasn't exactly unexpected, just happened faster than they thought it would. Anyone here with Death-Eater contacts has been told that Voldemort will look very favourably on my unexpected and highly accidental death. Most of the older Slytherins know I betrayed him and my father, and more than a few people round here are looking for ways to ingratiate themselves to Voldemort. On the bright side, I got my own room out of it." He swept his arm around the room. "Not too shabby." He looked as if he couldn't care less about the room. "Better than being smothered in my sleep anyway." He locked the door behind them and sat down on the bed, he looked haunted and tired. "How's Harry?"

Ron sighed. "The same. He won't talk about you or why he broke it off, he won't tell us anything about what my Mum said and he looks like hell."

"What can I do?"

"Tell us what happened yesterday morning."

Draco looked at his hands, utterly silent and still for a moment. "Everything was fine when we got up," he said finally. "Then we..." he blushed and skipped ahead. "We fell asleep in the bath and when we woke up your Mum and Dad were outside the door waiting to get in. We didn't really say anything when we opened the door, but I suppose it was pretty obvious what we'd been doing, we both legged it actually. I thought it was going to be all right though, we came up with a story to explain why we were both in the bathroom but when your Mum came to talk to us it all fell apart. She said she would make sure Dumbledore kept us apart, or something... I don't remember exactly, and I got angry and I ... said some stuff ... and she got even angrier and told me to leave and I did." He sighed. "I know I shouldn't have said whatever it was I said to your Mum but I just... I thought she was going to stop me from seeing Harry. Except now it looks like she doesn't need to since Harry's done it for her."

"Well," said Ron. "That's pretty much what I figured had happened. My Mum has this thing about us doing anything vaguely sexual under her roof and she pretty much sees Harry as one of us. So she blew up, you acted like the prick you generally are, and she threw you out."

Malfoy looked as though he were considering protesting the prick comment, but finally just said. "Yes, I suppose that's what happened."

"Which still doesn't explain why Harry's acting like he is."

Hermione got her look of deep concentration and then said. "I've got it!"

The boys looked at her.

"I think I know what's going on," she said. "It makes sense if you know why Harry didn't want to be gay in the first place. The only people that knew about you and Harry were Ron and I, his closest friends. No-one else and most especially no adults. It was the shock at being found out along with the fact that she didn't approve, it played on all his old fears that what he felt was wrong. He was worried that his parents would be disappointed in him, Mrs Weasley is kind of Harry's surrogate mother."

Malfoy nodded. "Maybe, but what do we do about it?"

"Just give it some time," said Ron. "We'll keep an eye on him."

"He's bound to want to talk about it eventually," added Hermione. "I'm sure he doesn't really want to break up with you, he just thinks he should."

"Time," Malfoy echoed sadly. "Well, I suppose I'll try not to be murdered before he changes his mind."

"I'm sure you'll be fine," Hermione assured him. "Professor Dumbledore wouldn't let one of his students be killed on school grounds."

Malfoy didn't look convinced.

"We'll just get going then," said Ron. "See you around."

Malfoy nodded.

They unlocked the door. "And... um, thanks," Ron added.

Malfoy looked up.

"You know, for rescuing us."

He gave a small smile. "You're welcome."

\-----------------

**Tuesday 14th Oct**

Draco had sat up all night figuring out what he was going to say. He was done falling apart over this, it was embarrassing. He still couldn't believe he'd let himself look so pathetic in front of Granger and Weasley. Whatever was going on in Harry's head, he would confront him and they would talk it out one way or the other. He wasn't interested in giving it time. He wouldn't be pushed around, he wouldn't let Harry dictate his life... More to the point, he couldn't wait.

He let himself into the Gryffindor Common Room, password hadn't changed since Friday, while the other students were at breakfast and went up to Harry's dorm knowing he had free periods all morning and liked to sleep in.

"Harry," he called out, knocking on the door. "Are you awake?" There was no answer and he opened the door and looked in.

Harry was standing in the middle of the room in his dressing gown staring at the door, their eyes met. "I didn't say you could come in," Harry said weakly.

Draco entered and closed the door behind him. "We need to talk," he said firmly.

"There's nothing to talk about," Harry replied, his tone hardening. "I'm sorry if you think I led you on, but I can't stay in a relationship I don't want to be in."

"Look," said Draco reasonably, despite the tight set to his features. "I know that Mrs Weasley being so angry upset you, but I'm sure she was just surprised and Ron said she can be a bit..."

"Don't," cut in Harry. "Don't try and talk me round. I'm not interested in you and that's all there is. I got carried away and so did you, but it was a mistake, for both of us."

"Don't tell me how I feel," Draco snapped, starting to get upset.

"Go away, Draco," Harry insisted. "Just forget about us and get on with your life, that's what I'm doing. What we were doing was... it was just hormones. It was too much and too fast and not what either of us really wanted. I just wish I'd pulled myself out of it sooner, for both our sakes. You shouldn't have been blamed for what happened at the Burrow. It was my fault. Now it's my responsibility to get things back on track."

Draco felt his calm façade shattering, Harry didn't want him. Hollow pain rang through him making him want to fall to his knees and sob, but that was not going to happen. Years of practice at controlling his weaker emotions allowed him that much dignity. However you couldn't hide that much emotion, you could only subvert it into something else and so he shoved away the pain and in it's place bubbled up anger. He was furious, he had never felt such a cold rage sweep through him. "You self-absorbed prick," he hissed at Harry. "You can take your martyr-complex and shove it up your arse. I can't believe I ever fell for you in the first place. You're so fucking determined to decide everything when you can't even see what's right in front of you. You walk into my life and show me this whole new world and then kick me out of it when you decide you don't want to play any more. Fuck you, Harry Potter. Except I already did, didn't I, and you loved it. Think about that the next time you tell yourself you don't want me and then remember that it's never, ever going to happen again. I wouldn't take you back if you fell on your knees and begged me in front of the whole school."

Draco turned and stormed out of the room leaving Harry staring after him bleakly. From between the curtains of his bed Ron said, "Great job, Harry. Looks like you got things right back on track."

"Fuck off, Ron," said Harry and shut himself back behind the curtains of his own bed.

\-----------------

**Wednesday 15th Oct**

That morning at breakfast Harry sat next to Ginny instead of with Ron and Hermione. They were far enough down the table that they couldn't hear what he was saying but he seemed to be talking to her. Which was more than he'd done with anyone else since he'd got back.

"I think it's a good sign," said Hermione hopefully. "He's starting to open up to people again."

"But why is he talking to Ginny instead of us?" asked Ron. "I just don't buy that he's suddenly ready to rejoin the world, not after the fight he had with Malfoy yesterday morning. It was really vicious."

"Well, maybe he's talking to Ginny because he knows she won't push him and because she doesn't know about him and Malfoy."

"Maybe," Ron didn't sound very convinced.

Hermione glanced over to the Slytherin table, Malfoy wasn't present. When she'd checked on him last night, after hearing about the fight with Harry from Ron, he'd told her he would be taking breakfast in his room from now on. He'd asked Snape and got permission on the grounds that the more time he spent there the safer he'd be. Hermione was sure it was partly an excuse to see less of Harry.

"What do you think they're talking about?" Ron asked her.

"Hmm?" she said, directing her attention back to him.

"Harry and Ginny."

"No idea, I'll ask her later. Might give us an idea as to how to get him talking to us again."

\------------------

Thursday 16th Oct

Hermione didn't have time to speak to Ginny in private until the next day, Harry sat with her every mealtime and any time they tried to join them Harry would fall silent and roll his eyes at Ginny in some secret communication.

After dinner Hermione ran upstairs to catch Ginny in her dorm room. When she came back downstairs she wore an expression that was half worry and half anger. She grabbed Ron's arm and hauled him out into the corridor. "You are not going to believe this."

"What?"

"Harry told Ginny he's not gay. In fact he told her that it was all something you and I had made up to put Ginny off him."

"He said what?"

"She told me that I didn't have to protect her because she could look after herself and that just because Harry was a year older than her didn't mean they couldn't make it work."

Ron went beetroot red. "Harry's dating my sister?"

"He told her he always fancied her and he was just too shy to tell her especially since he was best friends with her older brother."

"I... he.... I.... I'm going to rip his arms off!" Ron bellowed and strode back into the common room and on up the stairs to find Harry. Hermione ran after him.

When she got to the boys dormitory Harry and Ron were staring at one another while Seamus and Dean stood watching from well out of the way.

"Did you tell my sister you fancied her?" Ron roared.

Harry looked surprised then said, "Yes, I did."

Harry stared at Ron blankly as he slowly grew redder and redder. "I am trying," Ron said through gritted teeth. "To remember that you're clearly having some sort of mental breakdown right now and therefore I should try very very hard not to beat you to death."

"I thought you'd be pleased..." Harry started.

"Pleased!" Ron yelled. "You thought I would be pleased that you're leading my sister on and making her think you like her?"

"I do like her."

"Harry, you're gay!"

"Shut up! Everyone gets confused sometimes," Harry shouted back. "It was just a mistake, a one time thing. It doesn't mean I can't like girls too."

Dean and Seamus exchanged very confused looks at this.

"Yes it does, because you're gay!" yelled Ron.

"I am not."

"I wouldn't even want you seeing Ginny if you did like her that way," Ron told him. "Not while you're on the rebound from Malfoy and you're not even on the rebound, there aren't words for whatever it is you're on."

Dean and Seamus went from confused to shocked.

"She really likes you and you're using her and that's it, I'm done trying now." Ron launched himself at Harry with his hands outstretched. "I'm going to hit you until you start making sense again."

"Ron, stop!" cried Hermione trying to pull him back. "Someone help."

Seamus and Dean grabbed Ron by the arms and pulled him back.

"Lemme go!" he shouted. "I'm not done yet."

"Sorry Ron," said Seamus. "We really can't let you kill Harry."

"It's for his own good!"

Hermione followed them down the stairs as Dean and Seamus dragged Ron backwards into the common room. They deposited him in an armchair where he sat panting for breath, when he made a move to head back for the stairs they pinned him down again till he indicated he would stay put.

"So," said Seamus conversationally. "When were you going to tell us that Harry was doing Malfoy?"

"Or that he was gay," added Dean.

Ron sighed and looked at Hermione. "What the hell are we going to do?" he asked her despairingly.

\------------------

**Saturday 18th Oct**

Having spent most of the day brooding in his room, he had skipped lunch, Draco finally dragged himself to the Great Hall for dinner. He really wished he had persuaded Snape and Dumbledore to let him eat all his meals in his room instead of just breakfast. He wanted to see as little of anyone as possible, most of all as little of his Slytherin house-mates and of Harry Potter. He was still angry, or at least when he wasn't miserable he was angry. Much of the time keeping the anger going was just too much effort and he had to save it up for when he was out in public so that he could hold himself together then. Hence the desire to spend as much time as possible in his room. With the amount of sleep he had gotten in the past week, that amount being approximately none at all, he had very little energy to spare for keeping up appearances.

He walked straight, with his head up, but meeting nobody's eye and took his usual place at the very end of the Slytherin table. As usual nobody sat next to him, which was as he preferred it. He no longer bothered to listen to the conversations around him. He knew what they thought of him, he knew what he thought of them. Most were of the opinion that he had gone mad, a few were quietly impressed at his gall and the remainder were simply watching for an opening to shuffle him off this mortal coil. An opening he had no intention of giving them, dying would be far too much like admitting defeat. He would wait the bastards out until things got better. How exactly they were going to get better he wasn't sure but he was fully determined that things would. He was rather hoping that he would simply get the hang of this new way of being, after all Professor Snape seemed to get by perfectly well being alone and despised. He didn't let it get to him and he gave back as good as he got. If he could do it, so could Draco Malfoy.

He poured himself some pumpkin juice and took a large gulp.

Then he froze as he realised that hadn't tasted at all like pumpkin juice. He started to stand up but before he made it to his feet the pain hit. With a strangled cry he crumpled in on himself, clutching at his stomach as his insides seemed to twist up. Across the room he faintly heard someone shouting his name as he fell backwards off the bench and passed out.

\----------------

**Sunday 19th Oct**

It had been three days since Ron and Hermione had broken up Harry's abortive attempt to date Ginny Weasley and he had spoken to neither of them since. He had skipped more meals than he attended and as far as they could tell he slept only a few hours a night. None of them knew how to get through to him, he seemed to be living on autopilot, stumbling through the day.

He'd only shown a flicker of emotion once, on Saturday, when someone had tried to poison Draco Malfoy at the dinner table. Fortunately Madame Pomfrey and Professor Snape had reacted instantly upon him collapsing and the poison had been slow enough acting that they'd fed him an antidote in time. Harry had noticed the second Malfoy collapsed, leaping to his feet before anyone else and crying out, "Draco!"

By the time the excitement had died down he had already closed himself back up. As soon as they saw that Malfoy would live he turned and walked away. Hermione had tried to reason with him that obviously he must still care about Malfoy from his reaction but Harry simply stonewalled her until she gave up.

It was time to bring in the big guns.

Hermione read over the letter Ron had written for Sirius.

"Dear Sirius,

I hope that you can help us, Hermione and me are  
very worried about Harry. She thinks he might try to hurt himself,  
he has hardly been eating or sleeping although he is trying to hide  
that from us. I don't know if you heard about what happened last  
weekend with Voldemort but that isn't the problem. I know  
relationship stuff seems pretty small in the face of fighting  
evil but it is what is wrong. I know I probably shouldn't be the  
one to tell you and Harry will be mad when he finds out, but  
Harry is gay and he is having trouble dealing with it. He was  
seeing someone that he really liked and then my Mum found out  
and yelled at them and Harry decided to break it off. Ever since  
then he has been acting really weird, he tried to hit on my  
sister Ginny and like I said he hasn't been sleeping or eating  
or talking to anyone and he just stares off into space whenever  
he thinks no-one is watching. He won't talk to us and I thought  
maybe you could talk to him cause you're his godfather and  
everything.

Hope you are well, Ron"

"What do you think?" he asked.

"Don't you think you should have explained better? You didn't say who Harry was seeing or how far they'd gone or much about the arguments or Malfoy being poisoned. And it should be Hermione and I, not Hermione and me."

Ron ignored the last part. "I didn't want to tell him too much, I already said more than Harry would want me to say. I'm still not sure we should tell him Harry's gay."

"We're trying to help him, we need to give Sirius some idea of what the problem is if he's going to be able to help."

"I know, but it just seems..."

Hermione took his hand and squeezed. "Harry needs an adult, a parental figure who'll accept his sexuality. Who better than his godfather."

"But... what if it doesn't work out? What if Sirius doesn't want Harry to be gay and it only makes things worse?"

Hermione looked as if she'd never considered that option. "I'm sure he wouldn't do that," she said sounding a little worried. "We can trust Sirius."

"I hope so," said Ron grimly and tied the letter onto Pigwidgeon's leg.

Hand in hand they watched the little owl fly erratically off in excited zig zags.


	3. Parental Influences

**The Marks We Bear II: Circles of Influence**  
**by Marysia (April-May 2002)**  
**http://www.marysia.com/**  
**Pairings: Harry/Draco**

\------------------------

**Monday 20th October**

It was still early evening. Harry figured he could stay out here in the chill air till about ten before someone came looking for him, then he'd have to go back to Gryffindor Tower which pretty much meant he had to go to bed. Not going to bed meant putting up with Ron and Hermione's constant attempts to get him to open up to them. Why couldn't they just give up? It also meant sitting in the common room with at least five people who thought he was gay and whoever else they'd told by now. Going to bed wasn't much better though. He'd started having nightmares again, but not about Voldemort. Now he dreamt about Draco dying, replays of him falling to the ground in the Great Hall clutching at his stomach... only in his dreams there was no antidote. Everyone just stood around and watched him writhe until he fell still and his skin was as pale as marble, his lips blue, his eyes open and staring. Then everyone would turn and look at Harry and he would know that somehow it was all his fault.

Then he would wake up and the urge to see Draco, just to be sure it was a dream, was so strong it was almost overpowering. He would sit up rigid in bed and hold himself in a tight ball just to stop his legs carrying him out of the room, repeating to himself over and over, ' _He's okay, he's okay, he's okay.'_

Just a dream.

He had never thought anything would be so difficult as telling Draco their relationship was over and then walking away from that broken look on his face, but walking away from the hospital wing without seeing him had been even harder. But it was the only choice. How could he make things any harder for Draco than they already were by adding the risk of their relationship to all his other troubles. If the teachers had ever found out about it they would have blamed Draco, just like Mrs Weasley had, and then what might have happened? Draco needed the teachers on his side to protect him, they were all he had left. And it was bad enough that Voldemort's supporters at the school were out to kill him without the rest of the school turning against him for being gay and wasn't that what would happen. Maybe Justin could get away with it, maybe Harry even could if it came down to it, but everyone was always ready to think the worst of Draco Malfoy. Besides, taking advantage of Draco's vulnerability to satisfy his own desires was out of the question. It was cheap and underhand and Draco deserved a better friend than Harry had been. Someone who didn't have ulterior motives.

\------------------------

**Tuesday 21st October**

Ron was feeling very proud of himself for getting up when he didn't have to just so that he could accompany Hermione to breakfast. In fact he was of the opinion that he may well be the very best boyfriend any girl could wish for. He was smugly eating some scrambled eggs when an owl flew down to him with a letter tied to each leg. It extended one and he untied it but before he could reach for the other it jumped away and flew back out the window.

"Hey," he said. "There was another letter there and it flew off before I could untie it."

"Maybe it was for someone else," said Hermione. "Who's that one from?"

Ron glanced down at the parchment in his hand and shrugged. "Dunno." He unsealed it and looked it over.

'Ron,  
   I have written a letter to Harry. I hope it helps. Please write  
back to me and let me know if things get any worse. I hope that  
things have blown over by now, though.  
   I hope you don't take this the wrong way but when you said  
Harry was seeing someone and your Mum didn't approve.... did  
you mean you? If not, sorry, I just wondered how your Mum got  
involved in things. If you want to talk to me about anything don't  
hesitate to write again,  
                                              Sirius'

Ron made a strangled sort of noise. "Why didn't you tell me that my letter made it sound like I was talking about me and Harry?" he hissed in annoyance.

Hermione laughed. "I didn't realise, I can see how he might have made the mistake though."

Ron groaned. "Please tell me he didn't say that to Harry."

"I wonder what he did say to Harry. I guess that must have been the other letter the owl had, it must have taken it up to your dormitory."

Just then Seamus and Dean arrived at the table and sat across from them. "So," said Dean. "Not that we're being nosy or anything... but any news on the Harry situation?"

Ron shrugged. "Not really, not that I'd tell you if there were."

"Oh, go on," said Seamus. "Tell us what you said when you found out he was seeing Ma...."

"Sshhh!" said Hermione. "Will you two be quiet before everyone finds out. You haven't been telling anyone have you? You said you wouldn't."

Dean and Seamus exchanged guilty looks. "Well..." said Seamus. "We may have told Neville that Harry's not really interested in Ginny cause he's gay, but I swear we never told him about You-Know... er, I mean whatsisface. Not a word."

"Did you at least tell Neville not to spread it around?" said Hermione in exasperation. "Harry's mad enough at us without him thinking we're running some sort of rumour mill."

"Neville won't tell anyone," said Dean. "He's good that way. Not like big mouth here." He gestured at Seamus.

"Hey! I'm a champion secret keeper," Seamus protested. "I never told anyone about that time you got your wand stuck up... er, that is..."

"See," said Dean. "His mouth runs faster than his brain."

Seamus scowled. "Why don't you tell Finch-Fletchley," he suggested. "Maybe he could talk to Harry for you, answer any questions he's got. Explain to him why dumping whatsisface was the best thing he ever did for a start."

"Harry'd eat Justin for lunch," said Hermione, then back-pedalled at their expressions. "I didn't mean like that! Get your minds out of the gutter. I just meant that I don't think Justin could get through to him and he'd just end up getting yelled at."

"So how'd he end up with whatsisface anyway?" asked Seamus. "I presume that's why they started being all pal-y, cause they were..." he waggled his eyebrows. "Was it just a sex thing or what?"

Hermione rolled her eyes in exasperation. "I really don't think it's any of your business."

"Come on, the honour of our house's been tarnished. We demand to know the details."

"Don't start that again," she said shortly. "Ma... I mean whatsisface saved our lives."

"From his own father!" said Seamus derisively.

"Which only makes it all the more impressive," she informed him. "And it wasn't just his father he was up against."

"Then it's true, he really was in league with You-Know-Who?"

"His father was and is. So leave off him, he's not so bad once you get to know him."

"Well Harry certainly got to know him," Seamus insinuated. "And he doesn't seem to like him much any more."

"You are disgusting," said Hermione primly. "And you have no idea what's going on."

"So tell us," said Dean.

"Just stay out of it," implored Ron. "The whole thing's bad enough without you two sticking your oars in and making Harry even more paranoid."

\---------------

Harry was woken from a restless doze by the squawking of an owl which was fluttering at the curtains of his bed. With a scowl he put on his glasses and grabbed for it carelessly. It avoided his hand, settled on his cabinet and extended it's leg huffily. He untied the parchment and glanced at the handwriting, it was from Sirius. He quickly unrolled it.

'Dear Harry,  
   I received a letter from Ron yesterday, he seems to be very  
worried about you. I hope he is exaggerating but if you need  
to talk you know you can always talk to me about anything. Even if  
it were something very personal. I am your godfather and I'm here to  
help you with that sort of thing. Don't get yourself worked up over  
relationships Harry, it always seems like the end of the world at  
the time and it's never as bad as you think it is. I heard you had  
a run in with Mrs Weasley over someone you were seeing, I'm sure she  
didn't mean to upset you so badly. I can hardly imagine you dating  
anyone, but when I think about what we were like at your age! I think  
sex was all we ever thought about. Well sex, Quidditch and beating  
the Slytherins.  
   Ron said that it was a boy you were seeing. Don't be  
angry with him for telling me, he's worried about you, and don't be  
afraid to talk to me if that is the case. I'm an escaped lunatic and  
my best friend is a werewolf, I'm not one to be judgemental. Just be  
careful, and I mean that in every sense of the word.  
If you want to talk to me in person let me know and I'll try and  
arrange to be near a fireplace one night. I hope you are  
feeling better.  
                                 Sirius'

Harry stared blankly at the parchment. Ron had written to Sirius. Ron had told Sirius about Draco. Sirius knew what he'd been doing with Draco!

He dropped the parchment on the floor as he flushed bright red at the thought of his godfather knowing what had happened. Be careful? He picked the letter up and read it again, his brain filling in what he felt Sirius was actually saying as he did.

'I received a letter from Ron yesterday, _(he thinks you've gone mad)_. I hope he is exaggerating but _(if he's not let me know and I'll tell Dumbledore)_. Even if it were something very _(embarrassing)_. I am your godfather and I'm here to help you with that sort of thing. Don't get yourself worked up over relationships Harry, it always seems like the end of the world at the time and it's never as bad as you think it is _(so don't do anything stupid like try and kill yourself)_. _(I heard Ron's Mum shouted at you for screwing Draco Malfoy in her bathroom)_ , I'm sure she didn't mean to upset you so badly. ( _I can't imagine you doing that when I was your age I couldn't stand Slytherins and all I thought about was girls and Quidditch)_. Ron said that it was a boy you were seeing. Don't be angry with him for telling me, he's worried about you, and don't be afraid to talk to me if that is the case. _(Please tell me if it's true that your gay, after all it can't be much worse than being an escaped lunatic or a werewolf)_. Just be careful, and _(please try not to sleep with any more boys)._ If you want to talk to me in person let me know and I'll try and arrange to be near a fireplace one night. _(I hope you are not gay)._ '

He crumpled the letter into a ball and threw it into his trunk.

\--------------

Harry avoided Ron and Hermione until lunchtime when his appetite got the better of him. He wandered into the Great Hall casting a momentary look of longing in the direction of the Slytherin table. Draco was, as usual these days, conspicuous by his absence. He had not eaten in the Great Hall since the events at dinner on Saturday. He would however see him later in class, Defence Against the Dark Arts was last thing today. Avoiding Draco in class was not a problem, after their fight last Tuesday morning the other boy had made no attempt to talk to Harry and sat well away from him in the classes they shared. He firmed up his mental resolve not to discuss the letter from Sirius with Ron or Hermione and sat down at the Gryffindor table silently.

"Get any mail this morning, Harry?" Ron asked and was immediately elbowed in the ribs by Hermione for being as subtle as a ginger brick. "Ow!"

Harry gave Ron the glare he'd been nursing all morning. "Nothing of interest," he said coldly.

Ron looked hurt at that. "Did you even read it?"

"I'd say it's none of your business, but since you're not even going to pretend you didn't get Snuffles to write to me I'll just tell you to piss off instead."

"Give us a break, Harry," Ron started to get annoyed. "We're just trying to help. All we want is for you to start talking again instead of walking around like a zombie and biting our heads off whenever we speak to you."

"I might be more interested in talking to you if you had more than one topic of conversation."

"We might have more than one thing to talk about if you would stop obsessing over that one thing or at least admit you are obsessing over it."

"You're the one who's obsessed."

"Right, you're over it, that's why you were making puppy dog eyes at his empty seat at the Slytherin table when you walked in here."

Harry flushed red. "I was not!"

"You were too!"

"Will you two shut up," said Hermione. "You sound like three year olds."

Ron pouted and Harry glowered at Hermione. "Writing to Snuffles was your idea wasn't it?"

"You should talk to him," said Hermione calmly, refusing to get into an argument. "Maybe it would cheer you up."

"Maybe it would have, if you had been capable of keeping your mouth shut about my life. As it is I hear enough about it from you without having to discuss it with him too. I don't need to talk about it, I know what I'm doing. Why won't you just accept that?"

"Because you're miserable!" Ron put in.

"If I am it's because I can't talk to my friends any more, can't you just trust me and support my decisions? I don't understand why you're making such a big deal about this, you didn't even want me to be friends with him in the first place."

"It's not just that," said Hermione. "It's the Ginny thing and the way you've shut yourself off. We're worried, Harry, and I know we keep saying that, but the more you tell us not to be the more worried we get."

"Well that's just great," said Harry. "Can I eat my lunch now?"

Hermione sighed and Ron just shrugged in defeat.

\--------------

Draco picked at his lunch, his appetite was virtually non-existent these days. Being poisoned had that effect on you. Every bite he took his subconscious was just sitting waiting for the pain to rip through his insides again. Plus he would see Harry this afternoon in Defence Against the Dark Arts, he hadn't spoken to him in a week, not since he had told him that he wouldn't take Harry back if he begged him to. There wasn't really much to say after that. Any desire to take it back was firmly quashed by both his pride and the clear evidence that Harry didn't want him back anyway.

As he propelled his food around his plate he reread the letter he had received this morning from his mother.

'Dear Draco,

I am writing to inform you that I am moving, Malfoy Mansion  
has been swarming with Aurors ever since your little escapade and I  
cannot get a moment's peace. Thankfully they have stopped treating me  
like a prisoner, they are bringing no charges against me and since I  
have no idea where your father has gone I cannot help them any further.  
I am going to rent a small house near London for a while and take things  
easy, I hope you will join me there for Christmas. We still have each  
other after all.

                                        love, Mother'

He wasn't sure what to think. He hadn't expected to see his mother again for a long time and here she was asking him to spend Christmas with her. Part of him wanted to just accept it at face value, he wanted to have some small part of his life back. His mother. The more cynical side of him said it was too dangerous to leave the protection of the school, most especially for someone so close to his father and thus to Voldemort. He never had been sure how much a part of things his mother was, she knew Voldemort was in the house, knew that his father was a Death Eater... but had she approved of that? Did she believe in the things his father did? Did she know what his father was to Voldemort?

Did she really not know where his father was?

\----------------

When Draco arrived at Defence Against the Dark Arts he was unexpectedly joined in the front row by Dean Thomas who usually sat with Seamus Finnegan near the back. He frowned at the tall, dark-skinned boy and then set out to ignore him.

However a few minutes later Thomas leaned over and whispered to him, "So how come you and Harry don't sit together any more?"

Draco started and glanced at the boy. Finally he said, "Why don't you ask him that?"

Thomas shrugged. "Cause Ron and Hermione'll kill us if we try to."

Draco turned to look at him. "Who's we?" he asked suspiciously.

"Me and Seamus. So what's going on with you and Harry?"

"It's none of your business," Draco said sharply.

Dean decided to try and fish for a reaction. "Ron said you saved them from You-Know-Who. If you did why would Harry stop talking to you? What did you do to him?"

"I didn't do anything!" Draco snapped.

Dean stifled a grin at his discomposure. "Lovers tiff?" he suggested with a smirk.

Draco went pink and then white but reigned in every other reaction that threatened to escape. Once he had control of himself he said tightly, "I have no idea what you're talking about." After that he refused to respond any further.

\-----------

Harry watched Draco and Dean converse from his seat in the back row. From the minute Dean had sat down next to Draco he had paid attention to nothing else, desperate to know what was being said. Dean and Seamus had both overheard his fight with Ron over Ginny, during which Ron and his big mouth had given away both that Harry was gay and that he had been seeing Draco. Neither of them had spoken to him about it, but they had given him some funny looks and he was sure they'd told Neville. Now Dean was talking to Draco and that could not be good, not with their opinion of the Slytherin. He could only hope that this wasn't more abuse that Draco had to endure because of Harry. If he found out they'd said anything to hurt him he'd... well, he didn't know what he'd do. He'd never been much for physical violence and Seamus and Dean were both bigger than he was. But he'd think of something, he still owed them for the mashed potato incident. That set him thinking back to better times and seeing Draco was no longer speaking to Dean he spent the rest of the class thinking about things he really shouldn't be thinking about any more.

\-----------

After class he caught up with Dean in the corridor. "What were you saying to Dra... Malfoy?" he demanded.

Dean gave him an appraising look, then glanced behind him to see who else was in the corridor. "Why don't you ask him?" he said.

"Because I just asked you."

"Just saying hi, as you do," he said casually.

"Since when do you say hi to Slytherins?"

"I thought you and Malfoy were bestest buddies these days," said Dean slyly. "I even heard he saved your life."

"So what if he did?"

"So if he saved your life why don't you hang out with him any more?"

Harry was beginning to wish he'd never started this conversation. "That's none of your business."

"Funny, that's exactly what he said."

"What is with everyone?" said Harry in exasperation. "First you all treat me like dirt for being friends with him in the first place and now all anyone seems to care about is why I broke up with him!"

Dean grinned. "Broke up?" he repeated and before he could think better of it he added, "Why Harry, were you and Malfoy... dating?"

"Shut up, Dean!" he hissed. "It's none of your fucking business." Harry ran off down the hall leaving Dean grinning behind him.

A moment later his grin faded as Hermione barrelled up to him followed by Ron and Seamus. "Were you talking to Harry?" she demanded. "What did you say to him?"

"Er..."

"If you were teasing him about Malfoy I'll... I'll..." she looked really angry.

"I didn't mean... he started talking to me, I swear."

"Because you were talking to Malfoy in class," Hermione surmised correctly.

"Well... yes."

"And why were you talking to Malfoy in class?"

"We were just curious... and you said we couldn't talk to Harry about it..."

"We!" Hermione whirled on Seamus. "I might have known."

Seamus put up his hands. "I didn't do anything."

"If you two have made things any worse I'll hex you into next week."

Hermione and Ron ran off after Harry.

The common room was empty and Ron went up to the dorm where he found Harry putting away his school books rather violently.

"Hey. You okay?"

"I'm fine!"

"Dean didn't say anything stupid did he?"

"You mean like blurting out to my entire dormitory that I was gay and dating Draco Malfoy... oh no, that was you wasn't it."

Ron grimaced. "Look, I said I was sorry. I was angry about Ginny."

"Tell it to someone who cares."

"Fine, be like that! Why don't you just get over yourself? No-one gives a toss who you're shagging except you!"

Harry spun around and fixed Ron with a murderous look and Ron felt his throat go dry. "Get over myself?"

"Er..."

"I'm so sick of you acting like you can tell me how to live my life, like you have the faintest fucking clue. Cause it's just so hard to be Ron Weasley! It must be so difficult juggling your blatant heterosexuality and your complete lack of mortal enemies never mind your punishing academic schedule and your traumatic home life."

It didn't take long for Ron's temper to catch up with Harry's. "You stuck up git. No wonder you got on so well with Malfoy! That's right Harry, you're so bloody special that we mere mortals couldn't possibly comprehend the marvel that is you. No wonder you don't want to talk to us any more. Well here's a news flash, I'm sick and tired of trying to talk to you! You want to have no friends? Congratulations, you're succeeding... as usual." With that Ron stormed out of the room.

\-----------------------

**Wednesday 23rd October**

A full day and more had passed since Ron had fallen out with him and they hadn't exchanged a word. Harry hadn't tried to talk to him, he didn't see the point. It was more and more obvious to him that he had changed, and not for the better. All he ever seemed to do these days was hurt the people around him. He had hoped that when Ron and Hermione finally let go of the gay thing they could go back to the way things had been before, but it was too late for that now. Too many people knew and they weren't going to forget, it would be hanging over him for the rest of his life.

He looked down at the knife he was holding. He missed Draco like an ache that wouldn't go away. It was all he thought about. He wasn't sure what he wanted to do with the knife, just hold it maybe. He caressed the handle with his finger as his mind wandered, but as it strayed into thoughts of a more physical nature he reigned it back in with anger. He was so sick of this, sick of the ache, sick of the memories. He thumped the bed with his fist. It felt like he wanted to jump out of his skin. He flicked the knife open and gritted his teeth.

Harry pressed the knife against his thigh nervously, drew it across cautiously, then stared at his leg in irritation. All he had created was a thin white line of the sort you get when you drag your nail across your skin. Was there something wrong with his knife? He watched as the line changed from red to a faintly swollen pink then tried again. After several attempts he threw the knife in extreme irritation and it tangled in the curtains then dropped and buried itself into the floor.

"Oh great!" he said sarcastically. "My skin is tougher than the floor. This is ridiculous, how hard can it be?"

He suddenly recalled a conversation he and Draco had one night, when he asked Draco how he had started cutting himself. He had wanted to understand it better, never thinking at the time that he might try it himself one day.

\-------------------------

**Flashback (Wed 8th Oct)**

"Why?" said Draco thoughtfully. "I wanted... control. I think I wanted control. When I was around my father and Voldemort I felt like I had none, like all I ever did was let them push me around, do what they told me. If I couldn't control the world around me at least I would have control over my own body. If I couldn't lash out at Voldemort..."

"You could lash out at yourself," completed Harry.

Draco nodded. "Not that it was easy. When I got the knife out I was actually thinking about killing myself, but I knew I didn't really want to. I kept thinking if I could just hold on till school started I'd be away from it all. But I couldn't stand it and it seemed so long... I needed something, something to make it go away. I remember putting the knife to my arm but I couldn't seem to press it hard enough to really break the skin. Natural self-preservation or something. I just couldn't do it. I was so angry... I was so weak and pathetic I couldn't even do this, I couldn't even exert my will over my own body!"

Harry wanted to stop him, it hurt to hear about, but at the same time he wanted to know everything there was to know about Draco.

"I didn't eat all the next day, I think I was trying to punish my body for not doing as I told it by depriving it of food. That evening I had a glass of wine while I pushed my dinner around the plate and it made me feel tipsy, I rather liked it so I stole a bottle of wine and took it to my room with me. I drank the whole bottle in about half an hour and then getting the knife out again seemed like a really good idea... it went from there I guess. For a while I had to get drunk to do it, then it got easier. Not less painful, I mean easier to do mentally, I overcame the instincts that said stop. I guess it's weird, but I'm still sort of proud of that."

\------------------

**Wednesday 23rd October cont.**

Harry pulled the knife out of the floor and stuck it under his pillow. It was time to find some alcohol.


	4. Chapter 4

The Marks We Bear II: Circles of Influence  
by Marysia (April-May 2002)  
http://www.marysia.com/

\--------------

**Thursday 23rd Oct**

That morning was double Defence Against the Dark Arts. Harry felt wound as tight as a spring now that he had this plan, this thing that he had decided to do and that no-one else could know about. The anticipation was tight in his stomach and for the first time in over a week he felt almost alive. It was... not good, not nice... but it was something. It was better than it had been. It gave everything an edge. Like the edge of a knife.  
  
As he left the class in his hazy world, which only sat close enough to the real world to be able to see and hear it, he was stopped by a foot stuck out in front of him which he promptly tripped over. In the vague blur that followed Ron and Seamus tackled Crabbe, who had been the one to trip him over, and while everyone else was distracted someone stuffed a note into his hand. By the time he turned to see who it had been there was no real way to tell. He looked down at the crumpled parchment in his hand, it had his name on the front but the sheet was blank when unfolded. Confused he headed for Charms, ignoring the growing battle behind him between Ron, Seamus, Crabbe and Goyle.  
  
Draco watched Harry walk away from the battle that had started over him, it was strange how the world still seemed to revolve around Harry Potter. It was just that Harry Potter no longer cared to pay any attention to it.  
  
Harry skipped lunch, he generally skipped one meal a day. He'd skip them all if he could but he knew any more than one a day would attract too much attention. He prowled the empty dorms looking for hidden stashes of alcohol which he might purloin, he didn't find any. Then he recalled the strange note he had been given earlier and drew it out of his pocket. As he ran his hand over it to flatten the crumpled paper there was a sudden flash of writing. He drew his hand back in shock and it vanished again. When he placed his hand back on the paper the words reappeared...  
  
'Dear Harry,

        I have a proposal for you, I feel it is time we moved  
past our enmity. I have heard that you are not entirely  
satisfied with your current lot in life, I can offer you a  
better world to live in. If you can look past your preconceptions  
that is. I am willing to offer you a position at my side, a  
position of some power... at least in the future. In return for  
accepting my offer I can promise that I will leave your old  
friends, the mudblood girl and the Weasley boy, unharmed in any  
coming battle. Obviously Draco Malfoy is another matter but I  
hear you no longer associate with him. Perhaps you were as shocked  
as Lucius and I by his betrayal of his family, how can you trust  
someone who would so callously desert his parents? His father paid  
a heavy price for the betrayal of his son.  
        Think about it, Harry. You are not happy, why not try  
something new? How can you know what side you belong on when you  
have only ever tried one of them? I will be in touch.  
  
                        Lord Voldemort'  
  
Harry gaped at the audacity on paper before him. Join Voldemort? Had he fallen so far that Voldemort considered him a likely candidate? Was it so clear how much he had changed, how easily he caused pain around him? Is that how he seemed now even to someone so far away? Prime Death-Eater material.  
  
  
\-----------------  
**Friday 24th Oct**  
  
Harry eyed the bottle he had stolen with anger and hope. But then there was anger in his gaze most of the time, anger at life itself for refusing to obey him. Well, if he couldn't control life or fate or any of that there was still one thing left under control. Himself.  
  
And just like Draco had said, if he couldn't beat life into submission he'd do it to his body and mind instead. Starting with this bottle so that he could get drunk enough to do what he really wanted to do.  
  
He poured a tumbler full of the clear liquid and sniffed at it cautiously. He stuck out his tongue and tasted it briefly, drawing back immediately. 'That is really gross,' he thought. 'Oh, well. Bottom's up and all that.' Then he screwed up his nose and tossed as much of it down his throat as he could.  
   
He spent the next few minutes trying not to throw it straight back up again, it was absolutely disgusting and it felt like it was burning a hole in his throat.  
  
Half an hour later Harry was pretty drunk. He had wondered what it would be like, he always got the impression it was supposed to be fun. It was... different. One moment he was distracted by the way the world wavered around him and it felt like he was floating. He touched his face and it felt good and slightly numb. Then it were as if that hole he had inside him suddenly opened up and swallowed him whole and he was crying great gulping sobs and everything seemed wet with tears and there was nothing else in the world but this dizzy grasping lonely emptiness. Somewhere in between the two extremes he picked up his knife and swayed into a seated position. For a while he watched the light play on the silver metal. Pretty. He thought about Sirius, who had given him the knife. Sirius who said he could talk to him. Then he remembered the other letter he had got, everyone wanted to talk to him these days, shame he had nothing to say to any of them aside from 'fuck off'. Then he remembered what he was supposed to be doing. He looked down at his legs, touching his thigh. It felt like his face, numb and very far away and yet it was nice to touch it. He smiled and laid the edge of the blade against the pale skin.  
  
"This better be good, Draco," he murmured to himself. "Cause I really need something right now. Something to make it easier and if this doesn't work..." He left the threat unstated, even to himself, though he knew exactly what he meant.  
  
Then he drew the knife firmly across his thigh.  
  
For a moment he thought it hadn't cut him at all. Then suddenly blood blossomed in a thin line and flowered out. Beautiful. He gasped in amazement as the sensation hit.  
  
"Oh, oh yes," he sighed. "Was it like this for you? No wonder you kept doing it."  
  
Pain/pleasure ran through him making him half hard despite his inebriated state. He threw his head back and swayed with it, pulses like the thrusts of Draco inside him. So good.  
  
For a long moment he let it thrill through him. Then suddenly he absolutely had to see Draco, nothing else mattered. Had to see him, show him, touch him... in a flurry of movement with momentary pauses to sway and again appreciate the sharp burn of the pain and the beautiful vision of dark red against pale white, he threw his pyjama bottoms back on, dug out the invisibility cloak and the Marauders Map and stumbled out of the dormitory.  
  
After nearly falling down several flights of stairs, stopping to have a bit of a cry again, knocking over two suits of armour, forgetting where he was going and turning back, and tripping over Mrs Norris, Harry arrived at the room Draco was now using. He banged loudly on the door.  
  
"Draco!" he shouted. "Lemme in."  
  
Draco was woken from a light and fretful sleep, which he had fallen into only a few minutes previously, by a pounding at the door. He pulled on his dressing gown. "Who's there?" he called nervously.  
  
"S'Harry," came a slurred voice. "Need to talk to you."  
  
Draco unbolted the door as fast as he could. "Harry?" There was nobody there. Then an invisible someone grabbed him and in his panicked struggle he knocked the cloak aside and saw it was Harry after all. "Gods, you scared me," he gasped.  
  
"Sorry," Harry mumbled, he seemed to be finding it hard to focus.  
  
"Are you all right?" Draco closed the door and bolted it again. "Are you hurt?"  
  
"M'fine." Harry staggered over to the bed.  
  
Draco suddenly realised what was going on. "You're drunk," he exclaimed.  
  
Harry sat on the bed and gave him a lop-sided grin. "Yup," he said proudly. "I decided if it was good enough for you it was good enough for me. I had to do something." He looked momentarily pensive.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Once I tried it I just had to see you to say I get it now. I totally get it."  
  
"Get what?"  
  
"Why you did it, why it helped. It's incredible."  
  
Harry gestured to his leg and Draco looked where he was pointing. In horror he realised the leg of Harry's pyjamas was stained with blood. "Harry, what have you done!" He raced forward then stopped short of actually touching him.  
  
"You wanna see?" Harry asked generously.  
  
"Please," said Draco faintly. "Let me see."  
  
Modesty not even crossing his mind Harry stripped off his pyjama bottoms to show Draco his thigh. "I remembered you said you had to get drunk the first time so I thought it might be easier that way."  
   
"Oh, Harry," Draco dropped onto his knees and laid shaking hands either side of the bleeding cut on Harry's leg. "This is my fault."  
  
Suddenly Harry's mood swung again as the pain on Draco's face seemed to penetrate the excitement at having successfully navigated his way to Draco's room. "I..." He could feel the darkness and the tears rising in him again. "I didn't mean... I just..."  
  
Draco looked up, his own eyes dark with sorrow. "Didn't what?"  
  
"I don't know... I just wanted to feel something, to do something... I don't know." Harry put his hand to his mouth. "I don't feel very well," he said plaintively.  
  
"What did you drink?" Draco asked in concern.  
  
"Um... vodka, I stole it from Gred and Forge. It was really nasty." His eyes wandered a bit again as he became distracted by the way the world didn't seem to keep up with his head when he moved it.  
  
"How much did you drink, Harry?" Draco tried to catch his attention, squeezing his arms.  
  
Harry looked back at him. "Uh... about... this much." He held up his hand in an extremely poor attempt to indicate how much of the bottle he had drunk. "I think I'm going to lie down now." He tipped backwards and landed with a bounce across the bed.  
  
Draco got up and fetched a large glass of water. "Harry." He pulled him back upright to much protest. "Harry, you need to drink this."  
  
"What is it?" he said suspiciously.  
  
"It's just water."  
  
Harry took it and drank it all then slumped backwards again. Staring at the ceiling he said, "I think I really need to pee."  
  
With a great deal of manhandling Draco got Harry into his small bathroom. By this point, despite his joy at seeing Harry again when it had seemed for a while he might never touch him again, he was starting to get a bit annoyed. 'He completely ignores me for two weeks then suddenly he shows up drunk and bleeding and I'm supposed to look after him when chances are the minute he sobers up he'll go right back to ignoring me again. Bastard!' Harry started peeing on the floor and Draco was forced to grab him and aim him at the toilet. 'Well this is perfect,' he thought savagely. 'Just exactly the way I pictured getting reacquainted with his dick. I should tie a fucking knot in it.' He just wished the angry mental diatribe weren't a front for the fact that the whole situation made him want to fall into a heap on the floor and bawl his eyes out. An effect Harry seemed to have on him more and more and something he was manifestly not going to give in to. If Harry was going to rip his heart out and piss on the pieces, fine, but he wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing him crack. Draco guided him back to the bed where he collapsed again.  
  
"I really feel sick," he moaned as Draco finished dressing the cut on his leg.  
  
"Hold on, I've got some Quease-Ease Potion." Draco fished out the bottle and poured Harry a cap full then made him drink another glass of water. Then he covered Harry with the blankets, dimmed the lights and watched from the end of the bed as Harry started to drift off, but soon he was fidgeting uneasily.  
  
"Draco," he murmured. "Where are you?"  
  
Draco sighed. "I'm right here, Harry," he whispered as he slid between the sheets next to him. "I'm always right here."  
  
Harry settled comfortably against him. "My leg hurts," he muttered. "Did I hurt my leg?"  
  
"Don't worry about it, everything's fine. Go to sleep," Draco reassured him despite the fact that part of him wanted to beat Harry into a pulp screaming, 'How dare you, how dare you come in here and act like everything's back to normal when it's not. How dare you flaunt yourself in my face, how dare you get drunk and cut yourself up and make me feel guilty about it, how dare you climb back into my bed and into my mind and into my heart you complete and utter bastard.' He stroked Harry's hair back from his face and lightly kissed his forehead and his cheeks.  
  
Harry finally slipped into a deep sleep and, exhausted, Draco curled himself around the warm, limp body. "Bastard," he whispered once he was sure Harry couldn't hear him, still feeling tears hover unshed inside him. He gave into the words he found on his tongue, "Please stay with me, I can't bear being without you. I can't sleep without you, I can't eat without you." He buried his head in Harry's hair murmuring, "Stay, stay, please stay, stay..."  
  
  
\------------------  
**Saturday 25th Oct**  
  
Harry woke up feeling terrible, his head ached and his mouth was incredibly dry and he was too warm and something was very wrong with his leg. He made a noise of immense discomfort and disgust at being conscious. Then he realised he wasn't alone. He opened his eyes in surprise then shut them again as pain shattered through his head. He moaned and put up one hand to feel the familiar silky texture of Draco's hair.  
  
The other boy stirred at the clumsy exploration of his head. "Hmmmm?"  
  
'What the fuck happened?' thought Harry grasping for any memory of last night. He remembered drinking vodka... "Shit," he muttered and scrabbled about on the night stand for some light and his glasses, succeeding in knocking a glass of water over as he felt for the lamp switch. He shook the water off his glasses and stuck them on his face then risked opening an eye again. He closed it again quickly against the pain, but not before deciding this was definitely not his dormitory.  
  
"Harry?" said Draco softly from the vicinity of his chest.  
  
'Shit!' Harry started to pull himself out from under Draco despite the fact that moving made his head hurt an awful lot, but as he moved his left leg a new wave of pain shot through him. "Ow! What the fuck?" He tossed aside the covers, grasping his head in one hand, and looked down at the bandage on his leg which was slightly bloodstained. "What happened?" he asked in confusion, trying to cover himself with the bottom of his pyjama top as he looked for the trousers.  
  
Draco sat up next to him. "Don't you remember?" he asked neutrally.  
  
Harry found them and struggled into them. "I...." Harry remembered why he had drunk the vodka, focusing harder he remembered the bright flower of blood and the spiraling pleasure of pain washing through him. "Oh," he said.  
  
"Right," said Draco. "Oh." He sounded upset in a restrained sort of way.  
  
Harry looked at him awkwardly. "I... it was a mistake."  
  
"That's not what you said last night."  
  
"What did I say last night?"  
  
"You said it was incredible," said Draco harshly.  
  
Harry flushed. "I shouldn't have come here," he muttered as he stood up. "It was stupid, I was drunk. I'm fine, I didn't mean to bother you..."  
  
"Bother me!" Draco shouted suddenly making Harry jump and grab his head. "You didn't mean to bother me?" He leapt out of the bed and grabbed Harry's arm, the look on his face was a mixture of anger and pleading. "You get drunk, you slice yourself up, and I told you how to do it! What are you doing, Harry? I don't understand this. You break up with me, you start flirting with Ginny Weasley and now this. You don't do this when you're fine! You do this when you're falling apart. Hermione and Weasley are desperate with worry about you, Sirius Black is worried about you, Dumbledore is worried about you. Everyone's worried about you and you tell me you're fine. I think about you every minute of the day and every second of the night and you say you're sorry you bothered me? You think you can just walk back out that door and I'll forget about you and you can go back to slipping into whatever hell it is you're aiming for? Well I say no! No, you're not fine and no, you are not leaving!"  
  
Harry stared at him in shock, he had only taken in about half of what Draco had said and he really thought he might be sick. "Draco... I... " then he broke off and dashed into the bathroom where he retched into the toilet bowl.  
  
Draco sank to his knees on the floor and stared at nothing as he listened to Harry throw up. He remembered throwing up himself, Harry's steady hands offering him water, cleaning him up. He felt a sudden urge for the clean simplicity of his own knife and denied it as he had been doing for two weeks now. He was done with that. It was a new battle he was determined to win. The mental inability to hurt himself was long gone, now he had to fight the addiction to doing it instead. Inside the bathroom he heard Harry cleaning himself up.  
  
"Are you using my toothbrush?" he asked in a doomed attempt to lighten the mood.  
  
"Yes," said Harry shortly.  
  
Draco sighed and leaned back against the side of the bed, waiting for him to finish.  
  
Finally Harry came back out, looking altogether more composed.  
  
"Why did you leave me?" Draco asked.  
  
Harry stared at him.  
  
"I think you at least owe me that much."  
  
Harry looked at the floor. "What we did was a mistake," he said, it sounded like a rote speech and Draco wondered how often Harry had repeated it to himself. "We're too young. I... I should never have asked you for the things I did. It was wrong of me."  
  
Draco turned the words over in his head, trying to figure them out, to fit them in with what he and Harry had done and said in the past and they just didn't make sense. "But why? Why was it wrong?" he asked finally. "I thought you enjoyed what we did, I know I did."  
  
Harry tore his eyes up from the extremely fascinating rug he was staring at and fixed instead on the bed next to Draco's head, his cheeks slightly pink. "I... that's not the point," he said, not confirming or denying that he had enjoyed what they'd done. "We're too young to be doing that, you don't even know if you're... " he couldn't seem to get the word out.  
  
"Gay, Harry," said Draco finally. "I thought you could at least say it by now."  
  
Harry flushed. "I rushed you into things."  
  
"I don't remember complaining."  
  
"It was wrong."  
  
"It didn't feel wrong."  
  
Those words ran through Harry like electricity, breaking his composure. "But it was wrong!" he demanded. "You saw how Mrs Weasley reacted, how anyone would react. If anyone else knew... we're lucky we weren't expelled!"  
  
"Harry..."  
  
Harry ignored him. "It had to stop, I should never have gone so far in the first place."  
  
Draco got the feeling he was about to break and leave and panic shot through him at the thought of Harry walking back out that door. He'd rather sit here and argue with him all day than have him leave, than be alone again. "But, Harry, that doesn't mean we never have to see each other again," he softly pleaded in a voice he would never let anyone else hear. "We never have to do anything you don't want to, but it doesn't have to be over. I still... I..."  
  
"What?" said Harry, equally softly.  
  
"I miss you," said Draco, unable to take the risk of saying what he really intended and have Harry still walk away from him.  
  
Harry sat down heavily on the bed and cradled his head. "I miss you too," he said roughly, looking at his knees. "I just... I don't want to mess up your life any more than I already have."  
  
Draco sighed. "Don't decide what's best for me, Harry," he said. "You're really bad at it."  
  
Harry looked up at him and Draco allowed a small smile to touch his face. "What do you think we should do?" Harry asked.  
  
Draco joined him on the edge of the bed, their shoulders just touching. "Whatever you want, Harry. As long as it involves us being together that is."  
   
"I don't know..."  
  
"We don't have to do... anything physical. Not if you don't want to, not if it bothers you. I want it but I don't need it. What I need is you, here. You talking to me, you acting like a human being again, you not getting drunk and cutting holes in yourself just so you can feel something. Please, Harry..."  
  
"I thought you said you wouldn't take me back even if I begged," he said quietly.  
  
Draco sighed. "I was angry. I didn't mean it."  
  
"If you're sure..."  
  
"Of course I'm sure," Draco almost shouted in irritation. "I'm completely sure, one hundred percent, absolutely, completely sure. Is that sure enough for you?"  
  
Harry too smiled a small smile. "I guess it'll have to do," he said. He was too worn out, not physically but emotionally. He didn't have the strength left to force himself to walk away for the third time. He would simply have to settle for restraining himself physically, he couldn't do this any more. This being without Draco. It was killing him.  
  
Relieved Draco allowed himself to relax and suddenly found himself stifling a yawn.  
  
"Am I boring you?" Harry asked in dark amusement.  
  
"No! No, it's just..." Draco looked a little embarrassed. "I haven't been sleeping well without... well without you," he admitted. "I thought it might wear off but it hasn't, I just lie there staring at the ceiling and when I do fall asleep..."  
  
"You're still having nightmares?"  
  
"Sometimes. Other times I don't know why I wake up, I just do. I haven't slept longer than about an hour since we got back to school... except for last night."  
  
Harry looked guilty. "I'm sorry, I've been so wrapped up in myself..."  
  
"Don't apologise," said Draco. "Let's just forget about these past two weeks and, if you want, about what we've done before. We can start again and I vote that an excellent way to start would be by getting a lie in." He climbed back into bed. "You coming? I promise to behave myself."  
  
Harry looked doubtful.  
  
"Please? I swear I'll be good. I just want to sleep some more." Draco put on his best pleadingly innocent face.  
  
"All right," agreed Harry finally. "To be honest I haven't been sleeping myself. Let me just get some more water... and could you charm down this headache for me?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
Finally Harry climbed into bed with Draco again, putting his glasses back on the night stand and switching off the light. He lay down on his back and Draco immediately curled up against him in his usual position with his head resting on Harry's shoulder and one hand splayed across his chest.  
  
"Is this okay?" he asked.  
  
"It's fine," said Harry, covering Draco's hand with his own and turning his face in to rest against Draco's hair. "This is fine."  
  
And in a way it was. At least it was better, and that was all he had been looking for. For it to be better.  
  
\-----------  
  
Ron and Hermione dashed down the corridor behind Professor McGonagall with equally panicked looks on their faces. When Ron had discovered Harry's bed empty this morning but for a spilled bottle of vodka and a blood stained knife his heart had dropped into his belly. He had gone through Harry's trunk looking for the Marauders Map and when he hadn't found it he had woken Hermione and they had immediately run for the nearest teacher. Right now they were headed for the Headmaster's office.  
  
Halfway there they came across Professor Snape who nodded curtly at them.  
  
"Wait, Severus," McGonagall stopped him. "Have you seen Harry anywhere?"  
  
Snape turned back to them. "Potter? No." He took in their worried faces. "Is there a problem?"  
  
McGonagall explained what Ron had found on Harry's bed.  
  
Snape looked thoughtful. "Draco Malfoy was supposed to meet with me this morning, he didn't show up. I was just going to his room to check on him. I rather suspect we may find Potter there too."  
  
Ron and Hermione exchanged glances as McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "Why would Potter be with Malfoy?" she asked.  
   
"Just an educated guess," Snape said dryly. "Why don't we check before we get too worked up over his fate." Snape led them to Malfoy's new room and knocked on the door. "Draco?" he called. "It's Professor Snape." There was no answer. With a frown Snape drew out his wand and tapped the door, muttering a password of some sort. The door swung open and he stepped inside. "Draco?" With a swish of his wand he swept open the curtains letting the morning light in.  
  
The two boys curled together in the bed shifted slightly with the influx of light but didn't wake up. Harry turned away from the window onto his side and Draco burrowed against his back.  
  
Professor McGonagall took in the sight with a brief cry of surprise. "Goodness."  
  
"As suspected," said Snape, sounding rather amused despite the look of vague disgust on his face. "Potter is quite all right."  
  
Ron and Hermione sagged with relief at the sight of Harry not only alive but apparently reconciled with Malfoy. However their relief was waylaid as they noted Professor McGonagall building up a head of steam. Hermione gave Ron a horrified look. "She'll put him right back where we started!" she hissed at him.  
  
"Mr Potter..." began Professor McGonagall loudly, but before she could get any further Ron and Hermione grabbed an arm each and dragged her backwards out of the room, closing the door behind them.  
  
Snape looked after them with a raised eyebrow.  
  
"Mr Weasley, Miss Granger, what on earth do you think you're doing?" Professor McGonagall spluttered.  
  
"I'm really sorry, Professor," said Hermione earnestly. "I just couldn't let you shout at Harry."  
  
"Mr Potter has broken numerous school rules, never mind just scaring us all half to death with his little disappearing act. Being shouted at should be the least of his worries. As to what he thinks he's doing spending the night in Mr Malfoy's bedroom..."  
  
"But that's just it," Hermione tried to explain. "Harry's kind of .... sensitive about his thing with Malfoy. I know he's broken the rules but if you shout at him right now we might never get him to accept that what he feels isn't wrong."  
  
"What are you talking about, Miss Granger? What thing?"  
  
"Oh... you mean you don't...." stammered Hermione.  
   
Professor McGonagall suddenly realised what Hermione was talking about. "You mean... oh, my." She looked at the closed door. "With Mr Malfoy?"  
  
"I'm sure they were just sleeping," put in Ron. "They broke up a couple of weeks ago, well Harry dumped him, cause my Mum shouted at them for... er... stuff. So you see that's why you can't shout at him, cause my Mum did and he spent the last two weeks... well, we were really worried about him. It wasn't good."  
  
\---------  
  
Inside the room Professor Snape cast a vaguely irritated look at the two sleeping boys and said loudly, "Mr Malfoy, Mr Potter, I think it's about time the two of you woke up!"  
  
With the last, sharply emphasised syllable both of them snapped awake.  
  
"Wha?" said Harry blearily as Draco immediately identified the other person in the room and sat up with a look of shock.  
  
"We had an appointment this morning, Mr Malfoy," said Snape silkily. "You missed it. Ten points from Slytherin for sleeping in." He eyed Harry. "And five more for giving me the displeasure of having to see Potter in bed with you."  
  
By this time Harry had put on his glasses and was doing an expression of a terrified and humiliated goldfish.  
  
"I'd make it ten more but you get off lightly for giving me the amusing sight of Minerva McGonagall completely speechless."  
  
"What!?" cried Harry.  
  
"You will meet me after lunch instead, Draco," Snape continued.  
  
"McGonagall was here?" asked Draco, casting a concerned glance at Harry.  
  
"I believe Mr Potter's friends are holding her in check, I shall go and speak to her myself in a moment." He glared at Harry. "You are very lucky that I like Mr Malfoy a great deal more than I like you," he told him. "Twenty points from Gryffindor for being out of your dormitory last night." Then he swept out of the room.  
  
Harry stared after him in shock.  
  
"It's okay, Harry," Draco tried to soothe him. "Snape already knows about us."  
  
"Snape already knows!"  
  
"I spoke to him when I got back to school from the Burrow. I thought he could help calm Mrs Weasley down, but then he didn't need to cause she never got in touch with the school and I guess I just kept on talking to him about it. He was... well not really helpful, but he was there and he listened."  
  
"You told Snape!"  
  
"Harry, calm down."  
  
"Calm down? Snape knows, Ron's Mum knows, Sirius knows, Seamus and Dean know, Professor McGonagall knows... is there anyone who doesn't know?"  
  
"Harry you're over-reacting. People knowing isn't a bad thing. So you were out of your dorm, it wouldn't be the first time you got caught breaking a school rule."  
  
"She'll think we were... she'll expel us!"  
  
"She will not!"  
  
"She will!"  
  
"Snape won't let her."  
  
"Snape isn't the assistant head of the school."  
  
"Oh, for Merlin's sake." Draco stalked out of bed and threw open the bedroom door to reveal Snape and McGonagall standing outside talking. "Will somebody please come in here and tell Harry he's not going to be expelled before he talks himself into another nervous breakdown."  
  
The two teachers looked over at Harry who was still sitting in bed, now doing an impression of a rabbit in car headlights. He clutched the blankets to his chest unconsciously.  
  
Fortunately McGonagall reacted to his stark terror with an uncommonly parental expression. "Now, now, Harry," she said, re-entering the room. "It's not as bad as all that. We were just worried about you when you weren't in your room this morning. Mr Weasley seemed to think you might have... done something foolish."  
  
Snape rolled his eyes as if to say he considered most of the things Harry did extremely foolish.  
  
Harry looked up at McGonagall, now doing his doe-eyed deer impression. "We were just sleeping," he stammered.  
  
"I'm sure you were."  
  
"Draco has nightmares."  
  
Now it was Draco's turn to glare at Harry, he considered his nightmares to be none of McGonagall's business.  
  
"Why don't the two of you get dressed and have some lunch. We can talk about this later."

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Saturday 25th Oct cont.**

  
They ate together in Draco's room, silently.   
  
It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, but it wasn't an easy one either. Neither expected the other to talk, both wished that they could.   
  
Draco watched Harry as they picked at their food. Finally he said, "You've lost weight, you need to eat more."   
  
Harry looked up at him and then down at himself. "I know," he said simply. "So have you."   
  
Draco nodded, they both stared at their plates.   
  
"I got a letter," said Harry eventually in a voice that made Draco take notice.   
  
"From?"   
  
"Voldemort."   
  
Draco stared at him, his breath catching.   
  
"He thought I might be interested in joining him."   
  
Draco's jaw dropped.   
  
Harry nodded with a grim smile. "I know." It was strange how it felt like they were chatting about the neighbourhood gossip over tea the way his Aunt Petunia did. Made him want to jump up on his seat and scream until his voice gave out.   
  
Draco shook himself out of his amazement. "He's completely insane," he said. "Have you told Dumbledore?"   
  
"No, not yet. I only got the letter yesterd... no, Thursday and I've been... distracted."   
  
Draco made a face. "I noticed." He thought about last night a little then finally asked, "Are you going to go to Madame Pomfrey and let her check your leg?"   
  
Harry looked down at his leg, the bandages hidden by his robes. "Should I? Is it... that bad?"   
  
"I don't know, I don't think so. It didn't look deep enough to scar. Was it.... was it supposed to?" his voice broke a little and he tried to cover it with a cough.   
  
Harry squeezed his eyes shut against the sadness that ran through him. "No," he whispered. "I wasn't trying to leave a mark, I was just... wallowing." He looked up. "I'm sorry."   
  
Draco didn't meet his eyes, just shook his head and tried to compose himself again. "Don't be," he said shortly. "You were drunk."   
  
Harry knew he could take that excuse and Draco would let him and he nearly did but... "That's not an excuse, I got drunk on purpose so that I could do it. It was... I don't know what to say, Draco. I don't know how to explain, how to apologise... I took something that you were forced to do just to stay sane and I..."   
  
"You used it to feed your own self-pity," Draco completed harshly.   
  
Harry blinked at the anger that was obviously still felt. "I... I'm sorry."   
  
Draco looked away. "I still don't understand why it all went so wrong," he said. "I feel like I'm walking on eggshells, I don't know how to avoid it going wrong again if I don't understand why it did the first time. I don't want to have to tiptoe around you."   
  
"Then don't."   
  
"You left before, what's to stop you doing it again?"   
  
"This is you walking on eggshells?" Harry tried to lighten the mood.   
  
"You have no idea what I'm holding back, there's a part of me that could beat the living daylights out of you for what you've put me through in the past two weeks."   
  
Harry frowned into his plate. "If you're so angry why do you want me back?"   
  
"I don't want you back, Harry..."   
  
Harry looked up in shock.   
  
"I need you back. There's a difference."   
  
Harry's gaze was intense. "Why?"   
  
"Why is there a difference or why do I need you?" Draco stalled.   
  
"Why do you need me? You lived for 15 years without me just fine."   
  
Draco shrugged, obviously uncomfortable at exposing himself further. "I didn't know what I was missing."   
  
"Draco..."   
  
"I don't know why," he protested. "I just do. I don't feel... safe, without you. It's silly... weak, but there it is."   
  
Harry looked worried. "I can't always protect you."   
  
"You don't need to, as long as you're around I think I can protect myself... just not from you." Draco looked sad and he continued softly, "I never thought that I'd need to protect myself from you, not any more."   
  
"I left so you wouldn't get hurt," Harry pointed out.   
  
"The only thing that hurt me was you leaving," Draco retorted.   
  
Harry's face fell. "I'm sorry."   
  
"Good," Draco stated firmly.   
  
Harry sighed and tried not to gag on a piece of broccoli. He really wasn't hungry, he was still too tightly wound to eat. He decided to change the subject. "What am I going to say to McGonagall?"   
  
"Tell her whatever you want, but sleep with me tonight. Here."   
  
Harry tightened his grip on his cutlery. "We can't..."   
   
"Yes, we can," Draco told him firmly. "We always managed before."   
  
"People will be watching now, people know now," Harry tried to explain.   
  
Draco swallowed and when he spoke his voice was ragged. "Please, Harry."   
  
Something inside Harry twisted in knots. "I... you said we didn't have to do anything I didn't want..."   
  
"Just to sleep, not to do anything else."   
  
Harry sighed in defeat. "I'll try."   
  
"I'll be waiting for you, if you don't show up by ten I'll come and find you," Draco threatened.   
  
"No you won't!" Harry said in alarm. "You can't go wandering around the castle at night, it's not safe for you."   
  
"Then you better not stand me up," said Draco smugly.   
  
Harry sighed in resignation but at the same time the last thing he wanted was to spend the night alone. "I'll be here."   
  
\------------   
  
Harry stood outside Professor McGonagall's office in the midst of a slowly rising panic attack. Draco had gone to meet with Professor Snape and do whatever it was they did together. He was supposed to talk to Professor McGonagall, but none of the possible subjects struck him as safe... being out of his bed and in someone else's, the vodka, the knife, Draco... this was not going to go well. He knocked very quietly, half hoping that she wouldn't hear him and then he could say that he had knocked and no-one had answered and...   
  
"Come in."   
  
Damn. Harry went in and was shocked to find not only Professor McGonagall but another familiar figure. "Sirius!"   
  
"Harry," his godfather said gravely. "I was worried about you when you didn't answer my letter and I decided that it was worth coming to the school for a few days."   
  
Harry mouthed silently as his cheeks flushed red. What was he supposed to say? "I'm... I'm fine, really. I got a little... caught up in things but I'm okay now."   
   
Sirius frowned and turned around to look at the table.   
  
Harry followed his gaze and swallowed hard when he saw the bottle of vodka and the knife he had left on his bed sitting on McGonagall's desk.   
  
"There was blood on your sheets, Harry," said Professor McGonagall.   
  
"It was an accident," Harry blurted. "I cut myself, but it's fine."   
  
"Alcohol is strictly prohibited," she continued. "I could suspend you for even having it, never mind drinking it."   
  
Harry went white as a sheet.   
  
"Hold on," said Sirius. "Could you give us a minute, Professor?"   
  
McGonagall pursed her lips and nodded sharply. "I will be back in half an hour," she said and left them alone.   
  
Sirius motioned to Harry to sit down but Harry ignored it. "Am I suspended?" he asked raggedly. "Where would I go? Back to the Dursleys? What about the OWLs?"   
  
"You're not suspended, Harry," Sirius reassured him. "Please just sit down, we need to talk about all this."   
  
"I'm sorry... I'm really sorry. It was all a mistake, I swear. I'll never drink again."   
  
"Harry! Sit down."   
  
Harry sat down.   
  
"I'm not here to shout at you, I'm here to help you. I can't pretend to understand exactly what's going on but you're obviously having problems. I just wish..."   
  
"I'm not gay!" Harry blurted out, sure that was what Sirius was referring to. "I mean, I don't have to be. I can be normal, I just got confused..."   
  
"Harry, no that's not..." Sirius stopped as he digested Harry's words. "There's nothing wrong with being gay, Harry. You don't have to try not to be."   
  
"But I can do it, I really can. I told Draco I didn't want us to... we can be just friends. It was a mistake, things got out of control. I didn't mean it to go so far."   
  
"Harry, you're babbling," Sirius stood up and put his hands on Harry's shoulders, looking down at him. "Calm down. I don't care if you're gay or not, all I care about is that you're happy and that you're safe. We need to get your head sorted out so that there's no more disappearing in the middle of the night leaving knives and bloodstains lying around and scaring your friends half to death."   
  
Harry stared up at him silently.   
  
"Just tell me the truth, not what you want to be true or what you think I want to be true, the truth. Harry, are you gay?"   
  
Harry stared up at him, his hands shaking in his lap. "I thought you said you didn't care."   
  
"I don't... but I need to know or I can't help you. You have to be honest with yourself and with me. Please, Harry. It'll make everything so much simpler, so much easier, if you just say it."   
  
All Harry could think was, 'He wants me to say no. That would make it simpler, that would make it easier.' "I..."   
  
Sirius could sense his lie coming. "Don't say no if you're not sure, Harry. Don't say no unless you really mean it, don't lie to me. If you're not sure then say that. Don't be afraid of this. It's okay."   
  
"It's not okay!" shouted Harry. "If it was okay it wouldn't be such a big deal."   
  
"You're making it a big deal," Sirius retorted. "Can't you see that? You're the one that's doing this, you're the one that's hurting yourself! If it was someone else I'd know how to stop it but I don't know how to fix this! Please, help me fix this, Harry. I haven't had fifteen years of bringing you up to know how to deal with this and maybe if I'd been there you wouldn't be such a mess right now but I wasn't and I'm sorry. Please, Harry... just bloody say it and then I can tell you that it doesn't matter."   
  
"You don't want me to say it. You don't want it to be true," Harry accused him.   
  
Anger flared in Sirius' eyes but he held it back. "You don't want it to be true," he told Harry. "You don't want to say it, but it is true. I just don't understand why you're so afraid of it. You've faced Voldemort, Harry. Why is this so hard for you?"   
  
"Because all I had to do to face Voldemort was the right thing, this isn't the right thing. It's wrong and you can pretend you don't mind but you do. You feel guilty because you weren't there to bring me up and now look what's happened. You're stuck with your dead best friends messed up, gay son and maybe if you'd done something different you could have brought me up the way my parents would have wanted and I wouldn't be like this. I wouldn't be a sick freak who has under-age sex in his best friends bathroom and then gets caught and let's his boyfriend take the blame."   
  
Sirius stared at him in shock trying to process everything Harry had thrown at him. "You had sex with Ron?" he said before he could tell his mouth not to speak yet.   
  
"What?" said Harry, nonplussed.   
  
"I didn't mean... I mean..."   
  
"I never had sex with Ron."   
  
"But... you said... who did you have sex with?"   
  
"I thought Ron told you," Harry said. "In his letter. I thought he told you what happened."   
  
"All he said was that you were seeing a boy and that Ron's Mum found out and you broke it off. I thought he meant himself but he was too embarrassed to say it."   
  
"I'm not seeing Ron," he said incredulously.   
  
"But you are seeing someone... a boy..."   
  
"Yes... no! I mean, I was... but I broke it off. Except I think we sort of got back together this morning... I don't know."   
  
"And you had sex with him?"   
  
Harry was a vivid shade of red. "I thought you already knew," he mumbled in complete humiliation. "I thought Ron told you."   
  
Sirius sat down in shock. "I don't know what to say."   
  
Harry felt like crying. Sirius hadn't known and now he'd ruined everything by blurting it out. "I'm sorry," he said bleakly. "I'm really sorry."   
  
"What? No, no you don't have to be sorry. I'm just... I had no idea. It's not like I didn't lose my virginity when I was your age, actually I was younger."   
  
"You were?"   
  
"Summer holidays between fourth and fifth year," Sirius answered distractedly. "Bit of a disaster really, didn't have the faintest idea what I was doing. I got the hang of it eventually though."   
  
"It was with a girl though," Harry pointed out, as if that made all the difference.   
  
"Well, yes. But... I don't know if I'm supposed to tell you this, but maybe it'll help. I hope so. I did a little experimenting when I was younger... with boys I mean."   
  
"You... had sex with men?"   
  
Sirius blushed a bit himself. "A few times, in my late teens after I left Hogwarts. But I decided not to... keep on with it. As it were."   
  
"Did my Mum and Dad know about it?"   
  
Sirius frowned, trying to figure out where the question was coming from. "I think so, I know your Mum knew. She probably told your Dad. Lily put up with a lot of heart-felt angsting and moaning from me back then, she was a good friend."   
  
"Do you think..."   
  
"What?"   
  
"If I was... do you think they would be... disappointed?"   
  
"Oh, Harry. Of course not." Sirius got up and crouched beside Harry's chair. "Your parents would have loved you completely and been proud of you no matter what. I have absolutely no doubt of that."   
  
Suddenly the door opened and Professor McGonagall strode in with Hermione right behind her, they both looked pale and worried.   
  
"Harry," said Hermione. "It's Draco..."   
  
\------------   
  
Draco knocked lightly on the door and went in without waiting to be invited. Professor Snape was sitting behind his desk and he looked up with a slightly less friendly expression than usual.   
  
"Professor," said Draco cautiously. "I'm sorry I missed our appointment this morning."   
  
"Somehow I doubt that," said Snape dryly. "Have a nice sleep?"   
  
"Ah, yes, thanks." Draco sat down. "I... um..."   
   
"Oh, don't clam up on me now, Draco," Snape sighed. "I'm not angry with you. Appalled at your singular lack of taste perhaps, but you already knew that."   
  
Draco gave a half-smile. "I'd be worried if you felt otherwise," he told the older man. "Is Professor McGonagall going to be okay with Harry?"   
  
"I have explained the situation to her, she is not particularly pleased that her students are running around sleeping in each others beds but she will do her best not to send Potter into yet another teenage strop."   
  
Draco gave Snape a look at his denigration of Harry's near suicidal depression. "It was a little more than a teenage strop."   
  
Snape shrugged. "Isn't it like Potter to always take things that one step further. So, do you want to tell me what happened last night?"   
  
Draco sighed. "I suppose so, Harry would kill me if he knew how much I'd told you already."   
  
"What Potter doesn't know can't hurt him, in this case at least. What he doesn't know about Potions is going to lead to some actual trauma when he sits his OWLs, I'm sure."   
  
Draco did his best to ignore Snape's usual low opinion of his boyfriend. "Well, we're back together... I think..."   
  
"You think?"   
  
"He's got this idea in his head that we were going too fast before and that it was his fault, I think he thinks he's corrupting me or leading me astray or something."   
  
"He may have a point," Snape interjected.   
  
"He does not have a point, I was perfectly happy with how fast we were going and I was a more than willing participant in any corrupting that was going on."   
  
Snape made a face at the concept of Draco and Harry doing any corrupting of one another. "I think most people would agree that fifteen is a little young for the things you were doing."   
  
Draco blushed a little, fuming silently at the fact he was blushing.   
  
"If Potter's emotional state were as ready as his body obviously was he wouldn't have had a nervous breakdown within hours of... consummating your relationship."   
  
"That was Mrs Weasley's fault!" Draco protested.   
  
"He wasn't ready, Draco."   
  
"It was his idea!"   
  
"Calm down, I am not trying to blame you. I am simply stating an obvious fact. If Potter had been ready for such a physical relationship he would have been able to cope with Mrs Weasley's disapproval. That he couldn't simply proves my point. It wouldn't be the first time he's bitten off more than he could chew." A horrified look crossed Snape's face as he realised the double entendre in what he'd said. "I mean... he's prone to taking on more than he can handle." He looked as if he'd swallowed something extremely unpleasant as he realised that could be taken the wrong way too.   
Draco found an uncharacteristic giggle trying to get out.   
  
"That's it, I have had enough of discussing your perverse sex life," Snape growled in irritation. "You're going to have to talk to Potter about it from now on. I am here strictly for non-sex related problems."   
  
It was too much, Draco burst into laughter.   
  
"Oh, shut up," Snape muttered. "Teenagers!"   
  
"I'm sorry," Draco gasped. He was remembering Snape's face when he first told him about what was going on. He had been too upset to find it funny at the time but now...   
  
\-------------------------   
**Flashback (Sun 12th Oct)**   
  
As he'd grown closer and closer to school his concern at what Mrs Weasley might do had also grown. Draco raced down the stairs to the dungeons at high speed and threw himself into Snape's office without knocking.   
  
Snape looked up in surprise. "Mr Malfoy, I thought you were spending another night with the Weasley's." He looked over the panting boy with concern. "Is there something wrong?"   
  
Draco caught his breath enough to get some words out. "I need your help. Mrs Weasley... I..."   
  
"Yes?"   
  
"I think I need to tell you something first."   
  
"Is this about your father?"   
  
"No, no... nothing to do with that. It's about Harry."   
  
"Potter?"   
  
"And me."   
  
"Well, what about you and Potter. I do wish you would get to the point, Draco."   
  
"The point is, Potter and I... I mean Harry and I... we... he's..."   
  
"Yes?"   
  
"My boyfriend," said Draco finally.   
  
Snape simply stared at him. Finally he said, "Potter's gay?"   
  
"Er... yes."   
  
"And you're..."   
  
"Yes."   
  
"With him?"   
  
"Yes."   
  
"But... why?" Snape looked stricken.   
  
"What?"   
  
"Of all the people you could have picked... Potter? He's a Gryffindor!" Snape spluttered.   
  
"Who would you rather I dated," Draco retorted in irritation. "Crabbe? I didn't come here to get your opinion on his suitability, I came here because I need your help."   
  
\---------------   
**Saturday 25th Oct cont.**   
  
Snape had pulled himself together a bit after that but he'd never quite gotten over the fact that Draco was dating Harry of all people, Snape's third least favourite person in the whole world (Voldemort and Sirius Black still held the top two spots on that list).   
  
Snape pulled the conversation back on track. "I might also point out that I don't think this relationship is very healthy for you either."   
  
"What?" said Draco, shaken out of his reminiscence.   
  
"The last two weeks have proven that you are relying too much on Potter. You need to be able to hold yourself together without him there to prop you up. It's not healthy. You're taking Psychology this year aren't you, maybe you should look up co-dependency."   
  
"I know what it means," Draco said haughtily.   
  
"Then you know I'm right. Potter can't fix your problems for you."   
  
"Doesn't mean I can't fix them and see him at the same time."   
  
"As long as you're pointing all your attention at him, you're avoiding dealing with yourself. You need to get used to all the things in your life that have changed before you try and take on another person and his issues and I think it's blatantly obvious that Potter has more than his share of issues."   
  
"You're right," said Draco. "I think I will start talking to Harry instead of you. It's bad enough having to persuade him we can make this work without listening to you tell me why it can't as well." He stood up and the nagging feeling that Snape may be right pushed him to say, "Just because you don't like him doesn't mean he's wrong for me, why don't you just get over it." Then he left before Snape could reply.   
  
He stalked down the corridors back to his room muttering to himself in irritation and wondering how Harry was doing with McGonagall. She better not screw this up for them. He almost didn't see the two large figures that darted out of the shadows towards him.   
  
\--------------   
  
Harry stuck his head around the door to the hospital wing, almost afraid of what he might find. He knew Draco was all right, the first words out of Hermione's mouth had been "he's fine" but still... what if he hadn't been? What if... it didn't bear thinking about.   
  
Draco was sitting on the edge of one of the hospital beds, he was still wearing his school robes but his face was a mess. His hair was stained with blood and one eye was swollen shut. He spotted Harry with the one he could still see out of. "Harry!"   
  
Harry walked over slowly, trying to hold himself together when his body seemed determined to shake itself to pieces. "How are you feeling?"   
   
"Not so bad, you should see the other guys," Draco quipped.   
  
Harry's mood refused to lighten. "Where are they?"   
  
Now a dark look did pass over Draco's forced cheerfulness and he glanced across the room. "There," he said indicating two curtained off beds.   
  
"In here! After what they did?"   
  
"Dumbledore took their wands and they're restrained," Draco said, but it was obvious their presence bothered him.   
  
Harry stared a moment and then couldn't help himself, he stalked over and drew back the curtains on the first bed. The boy lying there was unconscious but unmarked, a seventh year Hufflepuff that Harry didn't really know. He drew back the other curtain and was faced with the steely glare of Martin Stein, another seventh year and a member of Slytherin House. The older boy tugged at his restraints ineffectually and his glare faded as he took in the angry expression on Harry's face. He sported a broken nose and a split lip.   
  
Harry stepped forward and shoved up the sleeve of Stein's robes, nothing, he wasn't a Death Eater. "Why?" he demanded.   
  
Stein pulled himself together a bit and managed a faint sneer. "Fuck off, Potter."   
  
Harry was about to do something Stein would regret when Draco called out, "Leave it, Harry. Dumbledore will deal with them."   
  
Harry spun around to face Draco. "I wasn't going to do anything," he lied.   
  
"Close the curtains," said Draco. "I don't want to look at them."   
  
Harry gave Stein a last glare and pulled the curtains back into place. Walking back to Draco he asked, "Are you going to have to stay here long?"   
  
"I don't think so, Madame Pomfrey went to get something to fix me up."   
  
"What happened anyway? It looks like you walked into a wall."   
  
"Actually that's about right. I got my wand out in time and stunned Beadleman but Stein grabbed my arms from behind and ran me head first into the wall. Luckily I have a very hard head."   
  
"You seem to be taking this pretty lightly."   
   
Draco shrugged. "I'm not over the moon about it but I'll take a proper fight over being poisoned any day. Besides, I won. In case you hadn't noticed they were both bigger and older than me. I'm feeling rather smug about it actually."   
  
Harry grimaced. "How exactly did you win?"   
  
"Smashed his face in with the back of my head, that got him to let go fast enough," explained Draco proudly. "Then I elbowed him in the kidneys, turned around and kicked him in the balls."   
  
"I think the adrenaline has gone to your head," Harry noted.   
  
"Aren't you proud of me?" Draco complained. "I've never been in a proper fight in my life before."   
  
"Aside from that time you nearly broke Ron's nose in first year."   
  
"I did not!"   
  
"You did too, at the Quidditch match that Snape was refereeing."   
  
"Oh that, I never expected Weasley to actually attack me. I kept Crabbe and Goyle around to stop that sort of thing happening. I accidentally caught him in the face with my elbow as he was knocking me down and spent the rest of the fight trying to get away. He gave me a black eye, probably would have throttled me if you hadn't caught the snitch so quickly and distracted everyone. So you should be impressed at how well I did this time around."   
  
"I'm very impressed," Harry assured him. "But I'd be happier if you hadn't needed to prove your skills in non-magical combat. I told you it wasn't safe for you to wander around on your own."   
  
"You said it wasn't safe at night, this was broad daylight."   
  
"It's obviously not safe full stop."   
  
Draco looked annoyed. "Well what am I supposed to do? Stay locked in my room all day?"   
  
"No, I just think you shouldn't walk about on your own. The teachers should have arranged for you to have some sort of escort." Harry sighed and lowered his tone so that their conversation wouldn't carry. "I hate this, we should be safe here. I don't understand why he sent them after you and not me."   
  
Draco spoke softly too, "Well, he's looking to recruit you now. Besides, if he is going to kill you he wants to do it himself. Prove that he can and all that. He knows he can kill me so he doesn't see the need to do it himself, I'm just a petty embarrassment that he wants rid of."   
  
"We should have killed him," Harry said darkly.   
  
"Maybe," said Draco. "But if we'd tried and failed it could have done more harm to us than it did to him. Besides, I'm in no rush to use the killing curse again."   
  
Harry sat down next to Draco and tried to sort out his thought processes. He'd no sooner finished talking to Sirius than Professor McGonagall and Hermione had come running in to tell him about Draco and he'd left them all in her office and gone straight to the hospital wing without any real time to think about what Sirius had said to him. He felt Draco take his hand.   
  
"How did things go with McGonagall?" Draco asked.   
  
"I didn't really talk to her," he replied, staring at their entwined fingers. "My godfather was there."   
  
"Sirius Black came to the school? I thought he was on the run."   
  
Harry looked up at him. "How do you know that, I never told you anything about Sirius?"   
  
"Hermione told me, you might have spent two weeks ignoring me but she didn't. Nor did Weasley for that matter, though he was less inclined to sit around and chat. So what did Black say? Did McGonagall tell him about last night?"   
  
"Yes... we talked about stuff. It was... pretty intense. I still don't really know how much trouble I'm in, he said I wasn't going to be suspended but I'm not believing anything for sure till I hear it from Professor McGonagall or Professor Dumbledore."   
  
Draco lifted up his hand and kissed the back of it lightly. "I'm sure it'll be fine."   
  
At that point Madame Pomfrey came back in carrying a tray of medical supplies and Harry pulled his hand back and quickly stood up and stepped away from Draco. He was looking away and missed the other boy's hurt expression.   
  
"Harry," said Madame Pomfrey. "You're not hurt are you?"   
  
"No, I just came to see how Malfoy was."   
  
Draco made a face at the use of his second name. "Actually Harry has a cut on his leg you should probably check on," he said casually, knowing Harry was going to kill him for it later.   
  
Madame Pomfrey put the tray down next to Draco. "Really?" she said.   
  
"It's nothing," Harry tried to tell her. "I was just cutting something in my lap and the knife slipped. It's all bandaged up already."   
  
"Better let me take a look anyway," she fussed. "Just sit down next to Mr Malfoy."   
  
Harry tossed an angry look at Draco and sat back down.   
  
She handed Draco a potion to drink and began smearing some ointment on his forehead. "The potion will clear up your headache and any internal swelling and this ointment should fix up the superficial stuff, dear. You'll be right as rain in an hour." She turned to Harry. "Now let me see this leg of yours."   
  
Harry lifted up his robes sulkily and revealed the neat if slightly bloodstained bandage on his left thigh. Draco took a moment to appreciate the view of Harry's legs, if their earlier discussions were anything to go by he might not see them again for a while.   
  
Madame Pomfrey removed the dressings and cleaned off the wound. "Looks clean enough." She reached for the same ointment she had used on Draco, Harry recognised it as quick-heal salve and was taken back to that night not so very long ago when he had stolen some quick-heal salve for Draco and the other boy had laid bare all of his secrets to Harry and begged for his forgiveness.   
  
It had been so easy to grant. So easy to let go of his fears and just give Draco whatever he wanted, let himself have whatever he wanted. But he hadn't really let go of anything, he had simply chosen to ignore anything that got in the way of what he wanted right then and there. And what he had wanted had been Draco. Draco's skin, Draco's lips, his hands, his smell and taste...   
  
Harry reigned in his thoughts before he embarrassed himself in front of Madame Pomfrey, luckily his raised robes were bundled in his lap. He glanced at Draco, sitting next to him, and the other boy's eyes met his with a matching desire in them... this wasn't going to be easy. 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Saturday 25th Oct cont.**  

Snape was sitting in his office pondering more important things than his students romantic entanglements. The whole Draco Malfoy situation was seriously interfering with his already fragile position as a Death Eater. And now there was this. He watched the parchment burn in his fire. Just then there was a knock on the door of his office. 

"Who is it?" he snapped. 

"It is just me, Severus," Dumbledore's familiar voice replied through the wood. 

"Come in," Snape muttered. 

The headmaster let himself in and sat down in the chair Draco Malfoy had not long vacated. "You look troubled," he ventured. 

Snape sighed. "Voldemort is displeased at my involvement in saving Draco's life last 

Saturday. I explained to him that it would have blown my cover if I had failed, the poison was so obvious and easy to treat." 

"He hasn't accepted that?" 

"No, he knows it's true. What he hasn't accepted is my failure to kill Draco more competently myself. He knows too well what my abilities are. He knows I could do it and leave no trace." 

"Perhaps if we were to make it look as if I no longer trust you, make your position here look weaker," Dumbledore suggested. 

"Perhaps," Snape mused. "He made it clear he wants Draco dead by Halloween. I'm supposed to meet one of his men in Hogsmeade that night and give them proof that I've succeeded. He suggested a body part would suffice." 

The two men grimaced. 

"Which is ridiculous," Snape continued. "If Draco were dead he'd know soon enough through his other contacts at the school. He doesn't need proof... I think he just wants a memento, or possibly something to deliver to Lucius as the final punishment for his son's betrayal. I really wish I didn't understand the way his mind works quite so well." 

"Understanding him is unpleasant but useful," Dumbledore pointed out. "I shall think about what to do, we will come up with something before Friday." 

Snape nodded. "You came down here for a reason I presume. Was there something you wanted to tell me?" he asked. 

"Yes. There has been another attempt on Draco's life, even less successful than the previous one I am glad to say. Draco fought them off and we caught both perpetrators." 

"Draco is unharmed?" 

"Just cuts and bruises, nothing Poppy can't fix." 

"If only it were that simple," said Snape cryptically. 

"What do you mean?" 

"Nothing, just that I worry about him. I know what it's like to have to constantly look over your shoulder... wondering when the axe is finally going to fall. He's lost a lot in a very short time, he's still trying to figure out what's left." 

"I have every confidence in his survival skills and I'm glad he has someone to talk to. Does he talk to you at all about Harry? Minerva tells me the two boys are... closer than I realised." 

Snape frowned. "What he talks to me about is confidential." 

"I didn't mean to pry, but Draco is not the only boy we need to worry about." 

"Potter is your problem. No offence, Albus, but I can only deal with one troubled teenager at a time." 

"I get the impression that the two boys in question no longer come packaged separately." 

Snape gave a sigh of long-suffering. "You could put it that way, I prefer to think of them as temporarily entangled. Draco would be better off with space to deal with his own problems, he needs time alone to come to terms with things. Potter is only interfering with that." 

Dumbledore smiled patiently. "It doesn't surprise me that you see it that way, Severus. Has being alone really helped you to come to terms with your problems?" 

Snape glared at the headmaster. "We're not here to talk about my problems," he snapped. 

"No, of course not," Dumbledore agreed and changed the subject. "I suppose I should also tell you that Sirius Black is visiting us for a few days." 

Snape's eyes narrowed even more. "Delightful," he said sarcastically. 

"He may stay longer, I think it would be good for Harry to have someone to talk to, a father figure. What do you think?" 

"You know what I think." 

"Yes, I suppose I do, I just thought I would let you know." 

With that Professor Dumbledore left Snape to ponder his problems in peace. Alone. 

\--------------- 

Draco talked Madame Pomfrey into letting him go on the understanding that Harry would escort him back to his room where he would be safe, and keep an eye on him until his head was completely healed. Madame Pomfrey had only agreed because Harry was the best student in her Medical Magic class. They were about to leave the hospital wing when they were joined by Hermione. 

"Hi," she bounced. "Everything okay?" 

Harry frowned at her unusual exuberance. "I guess so. You're in an awfully good mood." 

She followed them out into the corridor. "Yes, I am, and why not? Life is pretty good, don't you think?" 

"Well, let me think about that," said Draco dryly. 

"Oh, don't give me that," said Hermione cheerfully. "Nearly getting killed again aside, I should think you'd be pretty happy right about now." 

"Delirious. Oh wait, that's just the concussion," replied Draco, but he did give her a smile. 

Harry felt strangely out of place next to them, disconnected. 

"So," Draco continued. "Where's Weasley?" 

Hermione shrugged. "Off talking about Quidditch or something with Seamus and Dean." 

Harry frowned, he and Ron had barely exchanged two words since they had fallen out earlier in the week and he wasn't exactly speaking to Seamus and Dean either, although he wasn't really sure why. He just wasn't. He'd been so angry for the past couple of weeks it had felt like he hated everyone. He wasn't sure he knew how to just be friends with them all again, they felt so far away from him. No... he felt so far away from the person they used to be friends with. He suddenly realised someone was talking to him. 

"...Harry!" 

"Sorry, what?" 

Draco and Hermione both looked concerned. 

"Are you all right?" Draco asked. "You looked a million miles away." 

"I was just thinking," Harry told him, finding it hard to stay in the here and now. 

Draco took his hand, squeezing it as if trying to reassure Harry he was real. "Well pay attention or you'll walk into a wall and we'll end up back in the hospital wing," he joked, but it sounded forced. "Come on." 

He let Draco lead him down the corridors to his room. He wondered where Sirius was. "Don't I have to go back and talk to Professor McGonagall?" he said suddenly. 

"Forget McGonagall," Draco said impatiently. "If she wants to talk to you she can come and find you." 

"She never said anything to me," Hermione added. "She said she wanted to talk to Snuffles. I'm sure if she'd wanted you she would have asked me to send you back to her office." 

They entered Draco's room and he was pulled down to sit with Draco on the bed. Things suddenly seemed very awkward. 

"Um..." said Hermione. "Why don't I go and..." 

"No!" said Harry a little too loudly. "I mean... stay for a bit." 

"Okay," she agreed a little uncertainly and pulled a chair over to sit down on. "So... ah... is Sirius staying long?" 

Harry shrugged, trying to remember what Sirius had said. "A few days I think, I'm not sure." 

"I was surprised to see him, did he tell you he was going to visit or... did you ask him to?" 

Harry pulled his knees up to his chin and wrapped his free arm around his legs. "He was worried when I didn't write back to him," he admitted. He could feel Draco's thumb stroking the back of his hand and it made him tense. Draco's very presence was like an itch he couldn't... wouldn't scratch. He wanted to take back his hand but knew it would only hurt Draco if he did. 

"Did he..." Hermione started then seemed to fish for words. "Did you... talk? I mean about..." 

Harry was desperate to break the tension and suddenly hit on a possibility. "He thought I was dating Ron," he told them. 

"What?" Draco spluttered. 

Hermione laughed and it eased the moment a little. "He did mention in his letter back to me and Ron that he might have got that impression, but you were so angry at us for writing to him in the first place we thought we better not tell him anything else." 

"I thought you'd told him everything," Harry mused. "I just... I just assumed you had." 

"We just wanted you to have someone to talk to, someone who might be able to help," Hermione said earnestly. "We said as little as we could about things but we had to give him something to go on." 

Harry looked away from her as he said tightly, "It wasn't your place to tell him anything." 

All the tension rushed back and Hermione simply watched him silently. 

The silence was broken by a scratching at the door and Hermione, relieved, went to open it. A large black dog padded into the room. Hermione closed the door behind it. 

"Sirius," said Harry, using the excuse of his presence to let go of Draco's hand. 

Sirius cocked his head at Harry and then Draco in a silent question. 

"He knows already," Hermione said. "About who you are and everything." 

Sirius transformed into a man to a faint gasp from Draco. "You told him?" he asked, sounding a little unsure as to whether he was okay with that or not. 

"You can trust him," said Harry. 

"He saved our lives," Hermione added. 

Sirius looked Draco over sharply and then a realisation seemed to cross his face, he looked at Harry. "Is this..." he trailed off. 

Harry blushed uncomfortably and gave a short nod, stuffing his hands in his robe pockets. 

Sirius extended his hand with a look that was warring between fierce parental protectiveness and worry. He wasn't sure how he felt about this boy, didn't know enough about the situation or what Harry felt for him. If Harry was serious about the relationship he wanted to get on with his... Gods, his boyfriend. On the other hand... this boy had slept with his godson! More than that he was in some way responsible for Harry's current mental state and he was a Slytherin and a Malfoy to boot. On yet another hand he had, apparently, saved Harry's life. There were way too many hands involved to figure this out.

"Sirius Black," he said curtly. "Harry's godfather." 

Draco nodded and nervously, but with poise, took his hand. "Draco Malfoy," he said calmly. "I'm pleased to meet you." 

Harry found himself distracted out of his nerves and spellbound by Draco's sudden aura of politeness and grace. If there was one thing Draco knew how to do it was greet a guest and make a good impression, years of formal parties had taught him that much. Unconsciously his shoulders slipped back and his body formed itself into this welcoming and yet formally contained stance that made Harry want to sketch him even though he wasn't much of an artist. 

It also made him want to jump him and knock him out of his composure and onto the floor where Harry could pin him down and ravish him. Harry tore his eyes away and withdrew inside again. 

"Professor McGonagall told me about your situation... with Voldemort," Sirius explained to Draco. "She suggested that we might be able to help each other out." 

Draco gave him a questioning look. "In what way?" 

"You need someone to watch your back, I need a cover for staying here. How would you feel about a guard dog?" 

Draco looked surprised. "I... would you... how would that work?" 

Sirius shrugged and looked for a chair to sit down, as he did so Draco dropped back onto the bed. Harry leaned against the bedpost, keeping his distance. "Not exactly sure, but it's a good enough excuse to explain the presence of a large black dog wandering around the school. From what I can tell you should be safe enough in this room thanks to Dumbledore's wards, but I can make sure you're safe the rest of the time. I plan to stay for a while, at least till Christmas." 

"That long?" blurted Harry. 

Sirius nodded, "I think we should spend more time together, Harry. I've been remiss in my duties as your Godfather." 

"You did what you could," Harry excused him. "I always understood why you had to stay away." 

"It wasn't a good enough reason," Sirius said firmly. "At first, yes, while the hunt for me was still fresh. But lately... I can afford to be a little less careful." 

Harry smiled a little. "It'll be good, to have you here for a while," he said. 

Sirius smiled back. "I just hope that you don't all get bored with me once you actually get to know me a bit better." He stifled a sudden yawn. "Sorry," he said. "I was travelling last night, I could do with a few hours sleep before dinner I think." 

"Do you have a room?" Harry asked. 

"Hadn't really sorted all that out yet. Not that it's necessary, dogs can sleep anywhere you know." With that he transformed back into one and stalked into a sunny spot in the corner where he promptly fell asleep. 

Harry looked at the sleeping animal form of his godfather a moment then started to speak. "Well, maybe we should..." 

"Don't," said Draco fast and sharp before he could even finish. 

"You don't even know what I was going to say," Harry complained. 

"You were going to leave," Draco told him shortly. "Like you've been desperate to do since we got here. Do you think I'm blind?" 

Hermione wondered how the hell she could get out of here without them noticing her leave. 

"I can't stay here forever," Harry said from behind shuttered eyes. 

"There was a time you didn't want to be anywhere else," Draco said, his refusal to hide his pain even in front of Hermione a passive aggressive attack in itself. 

"I'll just be going," Hermione said very softly, standing up. 

"No," said Harry. "Wait. I'll come with you." 

Hermione stopped him before Draco could. "Will you just stay, Harry!" she said. "I thought you'd stopped running away." 

"Stay out of this," he hissed. 

"Then let me leave," she replied. "The two of you need to talk." 

He turned to Draco and there was pleading in his eyes. "I can't," he said. "Not now, not yet. I just need a little space to think. Please." 

"How much is a little?" Draco asked unwillingly. 

"I'll come back later, like I said I would." 

Draco nodded, disappointed but seeing that Harry couldn't be pushed on this. "I'll be waiting." 

They stared at each other for a moment. 

"Later," said Harry, by way of a promise, and left the room. Hermione followed him. 

\-------------- 

Harry excused himself before they got to Gryffindor Tower, despite Hermione's protests, and made his way outside into the chill grey of the damp autumn. What was he doing? Was he getting back together with Draco? It certainly seemed as though he already had. He knew that if he let things go they could almost just slide back into what they had before. Which meant he had to hold on tight, keep control. It would be friends in everything but name. If Draco wanted to call it more... if it felt like more... that didn't matter as long as it wasn't more. 

He could almost still feel the pressure of Draco's hand on his and he looked down at it, touched the back of his hand where Draco's thumb had caressed his skin. Sometimes it felt like he was drowning in Draco, like the reason he was so separate from the rest of the world was this blanket of Draco wrapped around him... smothering him. The more he struggled against it the more it choked him but when he gave in to it and stopped fighting there was only comfort... but comfort led to other things. Touching that led to kissing that led to Ron's mother looking at Draco like he was dirt... that led to the shock on Sirius face when Harry had told him how far he had gone. That led to the tight way Sirius had looked at Draco when they shook hands. 

Everyone looked at them differently. 

Whatever Sirius had done when he was younger he clearly wasn't happy at Harry following his footsteps. Willing to accept it maybe, but happy about it? Certainly not. He wondered if Sirius thought Harry might grow out of it the way he had. He wondered if he would, if he might just wake up one day and realise he didn't want Draco any more. If Draco might wake up one day and realise he didn't want Harry any more. But then Draco had already said he didn't want Harry. Needed him, not wanted him, like he was trapped in this too. He had crawled into Draco's life during a moment of weakness and made Draco need him and now he owed it to him to stay until the other boy could stand on his own again. He felt like he'd tricked him, but if he could give Draco just enough to keep him going until gradually he didn't need it any more then he could make up for it. 

Maybe Sirius could help, if he was going to be hanging around keeping an eye on Draco it would make it easier to keep the physical side of their relationship under control. 

The only thing he couldn't control was everyone else, too many people knew about him and Draco and it was starting to reach a critical mass. He had a horrible feeling that very soon he would wake up and find the whole school knew. At least Justin had only had to cope with being generally out, as far as Harry knew he hadn't dated anyone, and he wasn't the famous Harry Potter. Harry had sudden visions of newspaper headlines... Harry Potter Gay! The Boy-Who-Lived Shags Son of Death-Eater! It was bound to happen, if they'd reported his non-relationship with Hermione last year it was too much to ask that they'd pass over prime gossip like this. Made all the more juicy by the fact it was true. Everyone in the wizarding world would know. 

Harry buried his head in his hands and wished he'd slit his wrists. Wished he still wanted to, but it seemed to have been washed out his system, the moment was gone. Maybe when the news hit the street he'd get it back and then they'd have another headline to run... The-Boy-Who-Killed-Himself! 

\------------ 

At almost exactly ten o'clock Harry approached Draco's door, clothed in the invisibility cloak. He knocked quietly and Draco opened it, wearing his pyjamas, and let him in. He looked around as he slipped off the invisibility cloak. "Where's Sirius?" 

"McGonagall gave him a room or a dog basket or something, he'll be back in the morning." 

"I thought he was supposed to be watching you," Harry had expected him to be present to make this easier for him. 

"Not at night, I'm safe enough in here. I only need him when I go to classes and stuff." 

"Oh," said Harry, picking at the sleeve of his dressing gown. "Right." 

Draco gave him a dark look of comprehension and stalked over to the bed. He lay down facing away from Harry and said tightly, "Put the light out before you come to bed." 

Harry let his face show the sadness he felt, since Draco wasn't looking anyway. "Right," he said softly. He took off his dressing gown, laid his glasses and wand on the night stand and switched off the lamp then slid under the covers, leaving a respectful distance between their bodies. He looked at the back of Draco's head, which he could vaguely make out as time passed and his eyes adjusted to the darkness. His subconscious helpfully reminded him of the soft feel of Draco's hair against his fingers, against his cheek, under his lips. He clenched his hands into fists. The room was so quiet he could hear Draco breathing in tight puffs as if angry or possibly crying... or aroused? Harry was... his heart beat seemed to be shaking the bed it was pounding so hard. He was hard with the knowledge of how close he was to being spooned against Draco's back... knowing that Draco would welcome it... welcome him. Push back against him and tangle their legs together. He dug his nails into his thighs but the pain only seemed to make it worse. He had to do something. 

Finally he sat up. "I'm just going to the bathroom," he explained stiffly and made his escape into the small room. Once in there he leaned against the cold wall with a sigh of relief and exasperation and then quickly lowered his pyjama bottoms and took hold of himself. He had left his wand in the other room so he had to make do with spit and precum, but it didn't matter. He had no plans to make a big production out of this, he just wanted to get it over and done with so that he could relax and get to sleep. As he stroked himself his mind immediately conjured up what he had really wanted. Wrapping himself around Draco's body and pressing himself against the other boy's firm bottom. Sliding his hand under Draco's pyjamas and teasing him. Draco would turn around and they would strip one another as kisses became more heated. Naked they would press their cocks together and jerk off in unison, one set of hands tangled around their slick members and the other roaming over warm buttocks. Running into the cleft and teasing the tight hole there. Tongues in each others mouths, fingers slipping in... with a stifled gasp Harry came on his hand and on the floor. 

He dropped down into a sitting position and caught his breath for a minute then forced himself to stand and clean up the mess he had made. He washed his hands thoroughly and composed himself before going back out to the bedroom. Next time he would remember to do that before he left Gryffindor Tower. He got back into bed and lay down on his back. 

Suddenly Draco sat up and looked down at him. He couldn't really see his face but it felt like he was about to say something. But all he did was look at him for a long moment then shake his head and lie down again in the same position as before. 

\------------ 

Draco wondered how long he had been lying like this. Wishing Harry would roll over and hold him, wanting to roll over and wrap himself around Harry but unable to give into it as long as Harry was refusing to. He was angry, more at himself than Harry. Angry that he couldn't cope without him, that he had to constantly humiliate himself just to get Harry to spend time with him. His stubborn nature was at serious war with his desires every second they were together these days. He had wanted to say something to let Harry know that he knew exactly what he'd been doing in the bathroom, but really, why bother. All it would do was make things more tense, maybe make Harry leave if it got them into another argument. He could smell it on him under the soap. It was a smell too deeply ingrained in him to miss. He wanted to bury his head between Harry's legs and just breath it in. He was half hard himself, despite his anger, but he refused to do anything about it. He wondered if Harry was asleep. Probably, it felt like he'd been lying here for hours. One of his legs was cramping. 

He got up and went to sit on the windowsill, pushing aside the curtains to look out at the dark sky. 

He heard Harry roll over toward him. "Draco?" It didn't sound like he'd been asleep. 

"What?" 

"I thought I was here so that you could sleep." 

"That was the plan." 

"You're not sleeping." 

He wanted to say 'Well, you're not really here, are you?' in a harsh and challenging tone but instead he said blankly, "Neither are you." 

"Well... maybe I should just go..." 

"I'm surprised you bothered showing up at all," Draco snapped, giving in to the irritation. 

Harry sat up and put the light and his glasses on. "You said you'd come and find me if I didn't," he pointed out warily. 

"Well next time don't do me any favours. If you're going to act like you don't want to be here then just don't be here. I'd rather be alone by myself than in company." 

"What's that supposed to mean?" 

"I mean that you might as well not be here. You wanted Sirius here so we wouldn't be alone, you won't even touch me. You..." 

"I what?" 

"You go off into the bathroom and jerk off and come back in here smelling of come and hoping I won't notice that you still get hard just being near me. I can feel how much you want me to touch you but I know that if I do you'll just push me away." 

Harry's face was completely shuttered. "I've never pushed you away." 

"Only because I can tell when you will." 

"We need to get past this," Harry said patiently and Draco wished he would just show some damn emotion. "Things aren't the way they used to be." 

"I liked things the way they used to be. At least we were honest about what we wanted... about what we felt." 

"Look, you're just... frustrated. Why don't you go into the bathroom and... you know. You'll feel better." 

"Didn't help you get to sleep," Draco pointed out. 

Harry pushed up his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "I guess not." There was a little defeat in his voice. 

Draco took that small opening and climbed down from the windowsill, going back to the bed and climbing between the sheets. "You're hard again," he challenged Harry, guessing it was probably true. 

Harry flushed and tugged the sheets closer around him. "It'll pass." 

Draco sighed. "Will it?" he asked, not really referring to Harry's aroused state. 

Harry didn't reply. 

"Lie down," said Draco. "Let's try this again." 

Harry took his glasses off again and lay back down cautiously, tense as Draco gave in and laid his head down on his shoulder but the other boy only put his hand on Harry's chest and kept his lower half angled away except for one leg which he crooked up so that from his knee down it was pressed against the outside of Harry's thigh. 

They lay silently for a little while before Draco said softly, "Just tell me that you want this too, even if you're not going to do anything about it. I need to know that it's just..." 

"Just what?" 

"Just you being a stubborn, deluded idiot as usual," Draco said with only a little bitterness. 

"Hey!" 

"That it's not that you really don't want me any more." 

Harry didn't reply at first and Draco tensed slightly against him. Afraid. Wishing he had just lived with the niggling, ego-destroying worry rather than be faced with the possibility of real rejection. Again. Not again. 

"You know I still do," said Harry finally. 

Draco let out a breath he had been unaware of holding. 

"I just... can't give in to it. Please, just tell me you can accept that." 

"Don't close me out," Draco whispered. "Don't fight it by cutting me out of your life. It's not fair." 

"It's never fair," said Harry. "It's so hard to be near you and not..." 

Draco felt down Harry's side for his hand and took it in his own, drawing it up to rest his cheek against the back of it. "If I promise not to go there, not to push, will you promise to give me everything else? To let me back in." 

"Everything sounds like a lot." 

"No sex," said Draco. "But that has to be the only boundary between us. No lies, no pulling away, no shutting me out." 

"A compromise?" 

"An understanding." 

"And if I say no?" 

"Then there's nothing here that I need," Draco said finally, pulling back from Harry. 

"Like I said, I'd rather be alone by myself than with you. It's just as painful but it's a lot less nerve-wracking." 

Harry thought about it, thought about two hollow weeks of drifting further and further away from the world. Two weeks that had been filled completely by Draco's absence. Cutting him out of his life hadn't just failed, it had failed spectacularly. "No sex," said Harry cautiously. "No nudity. No... no hands below the waist." 

"But I can still kiss you," Draco demanded. 

Harry looked torn. "Only if we're alone. No physical contact at all unless we're alone." 

Draco nodded unwilling agreement then asked, "What are you afraid of?" 

"What?" 

"What are you afraid of? You don't want anyone to know we're together, more than friends. Why? Because you're embarrassed? Would it be different if..." ' _if it wasn't me,'_ Draco thought but didn't say. 

Harry looked away. 

"No secrets, remember?" 

"I... I don't know. That they'll stare... that they'll look down on you for it. That they'll blame you like Ron's Mum did, like Sirius does." 

"Sirius blames me?" 

"The way he looked at you when he realised it was you I was seeing..." 

"Harry, he's just being protective. It doesn't mean anything." 

"First impressions last. Because of me he'll always think of you as that boy who screwed his godson," Harry said pessimistically. 

"That's not true," Draco protested, but at the same time a cold fist curled around his heart at the thought that Sirius might think that. He felt embarrassed at his lack of humility in front of him. Did Sirius think he had taken advantage of Harry? Had he offered to watch him to protect him from Voldemort or to protect Harry from him? "Just... I don't care what anyone else thinks of me." 

"You know that's not true." 

"It should be." 

"But it's not." 

"Just go to sleep." 

"Fine." 

"Fine." 

They lay still and silent. Draco could feel Harry's chest rise with each breath he took. 

He turned his face into Harry's hand and kissed the back of it. 

"Go to sleep," said Harry. 

"I am," he whispered, thinking petty insults in Harry's general direction. 

After a while they did fall asleep. 


	7. Sonnets

**Sunday 26th October**

Draco was flipped out of sleep by the sound of scratching at his door, consciousness came like an injection of caffeine straight into the vein. He had turned around in his sleep and Harry had followed him, his body wrapping itself around Draco in a way Harry would never have consented to while awake. He was hard again... maybe it had never gone away, Harry was too and the hot length of him was pressed into Draco's backside through their pyjamas.   
  
He heard the scratching at his door again and called out, "Hold on a minute, I'll be right there." He pulled himself away from Harry and shook the other boy awake. "Harry, it's Sirius."   
  
"Hmm?" said Harry, obviously not experiencing the same instant awakening Draco had.   
  
"You need to wake up, Sirius is here. Do you want to put on the Invisibility Cloak or is it all right if he knows you're here?"   
  
Harry blinked and reached for his glasses. "Sirius?" he murmured, pulling himself into a sitting position. "Um... give me the cloak in case he's not alone."   
  
Draco took the cloak from a chair and threw it over to Harry who caught it, stood up, and pulled it around him. When he was covered Draco opened the door.   
  
Sirius padded in alone and Draco shut the door behind him. The dog sniffed at Draco and then the room in general before transforming back into a man. "You can take off the cloak, Harry," he said. "I know you're here."   
  
Harry pulled the cloak off. "I wasn't hiding from you."   
  
Sirius eyed his rumpled pyjamas. "Who were you hiding from?"   
  
"I just wasn't sure if you'd be alone or not. McGonagall or someone could have been with you," Harry explained.   
  
Sirius glanced around the room wondering what to do now. Finally he said, "I don't mean to be nosy, but you are my godson and I'd really like to know what's going on here."   
  
"Nothing!" said Harry too quickly.   
  
Draco rolled his eyes. "What Harry means is we were just sleeping," he assured Sirius, trying his best to look humble, trustworthy and open. It didn't come naturally. "It's..." he fished for an explanation that didn't involve the truth but couldn't find one. "We don't sleep well... at all, really... when we're alone."   
  
"It's one of the reasons I got so out of it before," Harry said quietly. "I couldn't sleep, I hadn't slept for almost two weeks when I... you know, with the vodka and the knife."   
  
"There are sleeping potions for that," Sirius pointed out.   
  
Harry shrugged, embarrassed. "I didn't want to talk about it, I'd have had to talk about it if I went to get a potion from Madame Pomfrey."   
  
Sirius sat down. "Why don't you boys get dressed and we can have some breakfast?" he suggested.   
  
Draco headed into the bathroom first with a bundle of clothes under his arm, leaving Sirius and Harry alone.   
  
Feeling awkward Harry went over to stare out of the window.   
  
"So..." said Sirius, fishing for subtle and plonking for 'I really need to know this stuff now'. "How long have you and Draco been sleeping together?"   
  
Harry spun around with his eyebrows raised.   
  
"I need to know what's going on, Harry," Sirius said helplessly. "I'm lost. I have no idea what you feel for him, why you started seeing him, how he feels about you... I want us to be able to talk but if I don't know anything about what's going on then where the hell do I start? Last time I saw you he wasn't exactly your favourite person, or I got that impression anyway."   
  
"He's changed since last year," said Harry. "A lot happened to him over the summer."   
  
"So it's only been since this term?"   
  
"Since the beginning of this month, I suppose..." Harry relaxed a little as he talked about how it had started. "I... when I saw him again at the beginning of term he seemed really different and I... I realised I found him attractive. Then he," Harry smiled slightly. "We were both out practising on our brooms and he fell off, lost control during a steep dive. That was when we started talking. He was polite... pleasant... almost nice, I'd never seen him like that before. But really it was Hermione that got us together."   
  
"Hermione?"   
  
"First she decided to start being nice to Draco too. Curiosity, you know how she is, and then she and Ron got into a fight about it and that just made her even more determined to be nice to Draco. Then when Hermione started bugging me about being gay I started hanging out with Draco more to get away from her and all the   
Gryffindor's fell out with me for being friends with him after he..." Harry trailed off.   
  
"After he what?"   
  
"He and Ron got into a fight and Draco hexed him," said Harry distantly, remembering the potion Draco had used on Harry to get him to forgive him for it. Not something he was going to tell Sirius about.   
  
"I guess Ron got over it."   
  
"Saving our lives pretty much did that, he still hated him up till then," Harry replied. "The only reason he and Hermione ended up in danger was that they snuck into our safe room so Ron could make sure Draco didn't kill me... actually I think he was more worried that we might... um... you know. He was pretty grossed out by the idea of us being... physical."   
  
Sirius nodded thoughtfully. "Didn't stop you though," he commented carelessly.   
  
Harry blushed and looked chagrined. "I guess not."   
  
"Sorry," said Sirius. "I didn't mean to sound... disapproving."   
  
"You are though, aren't you?" Harry said as if it was a given.   
  
"I don't know," said Sirius. "Part of me says I've no right to be, it's none of my business and it's not like I wasn't as bad at your age. Another part is just... worried about you. If I was sure you knew what you're doing... but you don't seem to. You've always fallen on your feet before, Harry, but you seem to be in over your head this time and I don't really mean the physical stuff. I mean your behaviour lately."   
  
Harry shrugged awkwardly. "I don't know why it did," he said. "Bad stuff has   
happened to me before and I always handled it. Maybe it's just a phase, you know... teenage hormones or something. Maybe I'd be this much of a mess no matter what was going on."   
  
"Maybe," said Sirius, not sounding convinced.   
  
Draco came back out of the bathroom, dressed, and they cut off their conversation. Harry realised then that he hadn't brought his clothes with him, he'd come down in his pyjamas and robe covered by the invisibility cloak. "I better go," he said. "I need to get dressed and I should probably eat in the Great Hall."   
  
"It's Sunday, Harry," Sirius pointed out. "Unless things have changed a lot since my days here, Sunday's were always fairly informal. Stay and have breakfast here, you can go and get dressed afterwards."   
  
"I suppose so," Harry said and went into the bathroom to clean up.   
  
Draco pulled the bed straight a little and sat down at the table in the corner. With a tap of his wand he notified the House Elves that he was ready for breakfast and the table was suddenly filled with enough food for the three of them.   
  
"Amazing how they do that," Sirius noted, trying to start a conversation.   
  
Draco looked at him questioningly.   
  
"The food," he explained. "How did they know there were three of us?"   
  
Draco shrugged elegantly. "I've never really thought about it."   
  
"I never got on with our family's house elf, so he mostly avoided me when he could. When I was eight I tried to steal a new one from my friends house, cause it seemed nicer than ours."   
  
Draco smiled politely, but he was obviously uncomfortable about something. "We   
had several house elves at the Manor, but I'm sure you knew that."   
  
Sirius nodded, fiddling with the teapot. "I know your family history. Have you... do you know what you're going to..."   
  
"You want to know what I'm going to do now that my father is on the run?"   
  
"Well, yes. I know it's none of my business..."   
  
"I don't mind. I'm not sure what I'm going to do. Professor Dumbledore said I can spend Christmas at school but I received a letter from my mother asking me to join her for Christmas. She's moved out of the mansion and apparently the Aurors have decided she isn't under any suspicion." Draco eyed Sirius carefully, hoping his reactions might help him decide what to do about the situation with his mother.   
  
"Do you think they're right?" asked Sirius.   
  
Draco stared at him thoughtfully. "I don't know," he said finally. "I had assumed she was fully aware of what was going on, but... now I just don't know."   
  
"It would be a huge risk to leave school over Christmas," Sirius cautioned him. "I'm sure Dumbledore would prefer you to stay here."   
  
"I know, I expect I will stay here. Even if my mother is telling the truth, it's still too dangerous." Draco poured himself some tea. "It would have been nice though," he said quietly, almost to himself, as Harry came out of the bathroom and sat down at the table.   
  
"What would have been nice?" he asked.   
  
"Nothing important," said Draco.   
  
\----------------   
  
That evening they all met with Professor Dumbledore to discuss the situation.   
  
When Harry arrived he found Draco standing outside the office with Professor   
Snape.   
  
"Sirius is inside with Professor Dumbledore and McGonagall," Draco explained.   
  
Snape looked Harry over, the boy was as drawn and tense as Draco. Obviously the reconciliation was not going well. He hadn't spoken to Draco about it since yesterday afternoon, but he, Dumbledore, McGonagall and Black had discussed the situation at length before he had gone to fetch Draco. It had not been an easy conversation. Professor McGonagall was of the opinion that the boys should be forcedly separated for proprieties sake, and while he was inclined to agree for the simple reason that he found the concept of the two of them together quite revolting, he had been forced to come down on Draco's side as the only one of the four that really knew what was going on. He had pointed out that keeping them apart against their will would lose them any trust they had and put Draco in greater danger if he were to try and sneak around to see Potter. He also had to begrudgingly note to them that the two weeks the boys had spent apart had done nothing but cause them pain, especially Potter who was clearly much weaker and far more unstable than Draco. Black had growled at that and implied that Snape only had Draco's best interests at heart... which was admittedly true. He had taken great pleasure in pointing out that he knew Potter far better than Black did, so perhaps he should keep his mouth shut and he might just learn something. In the end Dumbledore had decided that their relationship would have to be worked out between the two boys with only guidance and not interference from their teachers. Black would make sure to talk to Potter on a regular basis, Snape would continue to talk to Draco and if they wanted to sleep in the same room then a blind eye would have to be turned for the time being. The safety of the two boys from Voldemort was of far more importance than their love lives.   
  
On that front they had discussed Harry's letter from Voldemort, which Harry had told Black about over breakfast, and Draco's invitation to spend Christmas with his mother. The former was more ridiculous than worrying, but the latter was of definite concern, for Dumbledore had also received a letter from Mrs Malfoy. It had not requested, but practically demanded Draco's presence in London for Christmas and as his mother and legal guardian she had the right to do so. The school could not keep Draco there against her wishes, even if he didn't want to leave.   
  
There was an even more urgent problem however, one that only he and Albus had   
discussed, Halloween was on Friday and he was supposed to deliver news of Draco's death and a freshly cut body part of his choice to whichever Death-Eater was going to meet him. They were desperate enough that they had even discussed staging Draco's death, but there were too many spells that could be used to prove the lie. The tentative plan was a faked attempt which would fail and then leave himself under too much suspicion to be able to try again. It would make him look a fool, but better a fool than a traitor to the cause.   
  
They were called into Dumbledore's office.   
  
\-------------   
  
Harry walked back to Draco's room under the invisibility cloak, tagged by Sirius in four-footed form. It had been an awkward discussion, unsurprisingly... awkward, tense and uncomfortable seemed to be a way of life these days. Sirius left him once he reached the door.   
  
"Not exactly what I was expecting," Harry commented to Draco as he closed the door.   
  
"They're more worried about our safety than about anything else, makes sense."   
  
"I just thought... I can't believe they said it was okay for us to sleep together."   
  
"They didn't," Draco pointed out. "In fact they said they didn't approve, they just implied that if we we're going to anyway could we do it in my room and make sure Sirius knows we're both here. They just don't want us sneaking around at night on our own."   
  
"I suppose... maybe we should..."   
  
"Don't start, Harry."   
  
"I wish you would let me finish a sentence before you shut me down."   
  
"I know what you're going to say, you're going to say maybe we shouldn't sleep together, even though we both want to, just because it makes a couple of teachers uncomfortable."   
  
"They'll think we're..."   
  
"I don't care what they think we're doing."   
  
"Would you stop doing that!" Harry fumed.   
  
Draco reached out and hooked him by the neck, pulling him against him and into a kiss. When he drew back he said firmly, "I. Don't. Care. What. They. Think."   
  
"Well I do," said Harry sullenly, not pulling away. He touched Draco's cheek lightly, running his fingers down and over the other boy's slightly parted lips. They kissed again, softer. When they parted Harry rested his forehead in the crook of Draco's neck and let out a sigh. "I feel like I'm in some sort of tragic, fated love story. Those always end badly you know."   
  
"The word tragic kind of requires them to," Draco answered. "Could be worse."   
  
"How?"   
  
"We could be forced to wear tights and converse in rhyming couplets."   
  
Harry started to laugh, "Which one of us is Juliet then?" He straightened up and caught Draco's eyes. Something he hadn't done very often lately. "Shall I compare thee to a summers day?" he said lightly, unsuccessfully trying to hide adoration under sarcasm. "Thou art more lovely and more temperate."   
  
"Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, and summer's lease hath all too short a date," added Draco with a smile. "But that's not from Romeo and Juliet,"   
he said, thinking that the words were unfortunately suited to their situation. Still, this moment was sweeter than anything they had shared lately. Harry seemed in an uncommonly relaxed mood, perhaps their teachers implicit permission that the relationship could continue had meant more to him than it had to Draco. "How about this... You frame my thoughts and fashion me within. You stop my tongue and teach my heart to speak. You calm the storm that passion did begin, strong through your cause, but by your virtue weak. Dark is the world, where your light shined never. Well is he born, that may behold you ever." Draco kissed him again as he blushed.   
  
"Was that from Romeo and Juliet?" Harry asked.   
  
"It wasn't Shakespeare at all, it's from a sonnet by Spenser," Draco replied.   
  
"Read a lot of poetry?" Harry teased.   
  
"More than you obviously. My mother used to make me learn sonnets and recite them for guests when I was younger."   
  
"And I thought my home life was bad," Harry commented. "Do some more."   
  
Draco rolled his eyes in mock irritation. "Of this world's theatre in which we stay, my love like the spectator idly sits. Beholding me that all the pageants play, disguising diversly my troubled wits," he said wryly, easily hiding the darker intent as he thought over the rest of that sonnet. All was not quite forgiven yet.   
  
"Oh, come on," said Harry playfully, walking them over to the bed. "You can do better than that." He lay down on top of the blankets, looking up at Draco.   
  
"When I all weary had the chase forsook," Draco quoted, sitting down on the bed. "The gentle dear returned the self-same way, thinking to quench his thirst at the next brook. There he beholding me with milder look, sought not to fly, but fearless still did bide. Till I in hand him yet half trembling took and with his own goodwill him firmly tied."   
  
Harry shivered lightly at the images invoked. "You're too good at this," he said. "Was that Spenser too?"   
  
"Yes," Draco said softly, stretching out facing Harry with one hand propping up his head. "This is Shakespeare though...   
  
When in the chronicle of wasted time   
I see descriptions of the fairest wights   
And beauty making beautiful old rhyme   
In praise of ladies dead and lovely knights,   
Then, in the blazon of sweet beauty's best,   
Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow,   
I see their antique pen would have expressed   
Even such a beauty as you master now.   
So all their praises are but prophecies   
Of this our time, all you prefiguring;   
And, for they looked but with divining eyes,   
They had not skill enough your worth to sing:   
  For we, which now behold these present days,   
  Have eyes to wonder, but lack tongues to praise."   
  
Harry was blushing again. "I hardly think so," he laughed in self-deprecation. "You're much better looking than I am."   
  
"I'll write you a sonnet of your very own," Draco promised, pulling Harry against him. "I always thought they were pretty, but they didn't seem to hold much meaning until now. Just silly people making fools of themselves over love. I didn't think I was ever going to do that."   
  
Something about that darkened Harry's expression and he stiffened slightly in Draco's arms. "Do you wish you hadn't?" he asked.   
  
"What?"   
  
"Got involved with me?"   
  
Draco sighed and thought a moment. "For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings, that then I scorn to change my state with kings," he replied.   
  
"More Shakespeare?"   
  
Draco nodded.   
  
Harry pressed his face into Draco's chest and let him wrap their limbs together.   
  
"His gesture, motion and his smiles, his wit, his voice, my heart beguiles. Beguiles my heart, I know not why, and yet I love him till I die," Draco whispered in his ear.   
  
"Enough poetry," Harry protested, unable to deal with any more praise or protestations of love.   
  
"You don't like it?"   
  
"It's not that, it's beautiful..."   
  
"You're beautiful."   
   
"But I'm not."   
  
Draco gave up and kissed him again, delighted by Harry's response. It seemed last night's setting of rules and today's tacit setting of permission had put Harry's mind at ease at least for now and Draco was more than willing to take advantage of that.   
  
Harry relaxed and let Draco kiss him, let him wrap their bodies together. 'I can stop it any time,' he thought. 'If it goes too far, which it won't. Draco knows the rules, he promised.' It was so good to feel Draco against him again, so easy to let go and just enjoy his touch. The taste of him.   
  
Harry rolled Draco over onto his back and began to lay kisses over his face. He rubbed his cheek against Draco's, luxuriating in the sensations he had been denying himself access to. It was so good to just relax and not worry about it for a little while.   
  
Draco flipped him over and pinned his arms above his head, for a moment they looked at each other and Harry thought he could see worry in Draco's eyes, but before he could look harder Draco was kissing him again. He moved down to bite hard at Harry's neck and then onto tiny nips with his teeth. With each small twist of Harry's skin a tremor ran lightly through his body. Draco's tongue ran lightly over each red bite mark. He was holding Harry's wrists lightly in one hand now.   
  
"This is okay?" he asked breathlessly as he paused at the top button of Harry's robes.   
  
"Um," Harry tried to throw his mind back into gear. "I... not... not below the waist."   
  
"I know, I promise." With that Draco swiftly began unbuttoning Harry's robes down to his waist. He pushed them open and jerked Harry's vest up and over his head, leaving his arms still tangled in cloth.   
  
Draco bent forward to taste the skin at the base of Harry's ribcage, careful to put no pressure on the erection he was putting great effort into pretending to be unaware of. He had no idea what Harry's reaction would be if he were to press against it the way he wanted to, it was too much of a risk for now. It was killing him not to, though. He fastened his lips over a nipple and bit his frustration deep into the skin, pressing the flat of his tongue hard over the flesh in his mouth.   
  
Harry gasped loud and his hips bucked toward Draco's arched up body, his arms swept down and his fingers wrapped around Draco's upper arms and squeezed hard enough to bruise. Then his leg hooked up around Draco's body and pulled his body down against him.   
  
Draco released Harry and pulled his head back in surprise as his stomach hit Harry's crotch and his own erection was pressed into the thigh Harry had between his legs. Harry's free leg pressed down over his backside, crushing their bodies together. Harry's head was thrown back and his eyes were closed.   
  
"Harry?" Draco held as still as he could, propping himself over Harry's chest. "I thought..."   
  
Harry seemed to notice someone was talking to him. "Huh?" He opened his eyes and looked at Draco.   
  
"I thought... I mean..." It wasn't really that Harry had broken his own rules, he hadn't really. It was that Draco couldn't go this far and not break them in the very near future and he really didn't want to do that yet, not till he was sure Harry wouldn't run out on him as soon as they were done.   
  
Harry suddenly realised what he was doing. "I didn't mean..." he tried to pull his head back together. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that." His flush was changing from arousal to embarrassment as he unhooked his leg and started to pull himself up the bed, out from under Draco. "We shouldn't have..."   
  
"No!" Draco stopped him from moving any further away with a hand on his shoulder. "No, it's fine. I just thought we should slow down a little before it got..."   
  
"Too hard to stop?"   
  
"Something like that."   
  
"But still... what if you hadn't..."   
  
"But I did. I promised, Harry. It doesn't matter which of us says slow down as long as one of us does, right? I can do that."   
  
"You shouldn't have to." Harry looked upset.   
  
"Harry..."   
  
"Let's just go to bed now, we have class tomorrow morning and I don't know about you but I've got some catching up to do." With that Harry pulled himself fully out from under Draco and disappeared into the bathroom.   
   
Draco sighed and rolled over onto his back. He lowered one hand to his undeterred erection and squeezed it lightly, wondering what to do about it. He had never been inclined to masturbate and even now, with so many of his previous illusions about sex in tatters, he wasn't fully comfortable with it. It still felt like a weakness and one that he was capable of doing without, unlike his weakness for Harry Potter. He still wasn't entirely sure what to make of that. He had acted mostly on a sense of self preservation in getting Harry to take him back, his pride had not wanted it, he had not wanted it... no that was a lie. He had wanted it desperately, but it was that very desperation that had made him not want it at the same time. Without Harry he was a wreck and although he had intended to try and see it through, build himself back up on his own, he had failed miserably. Perhaps if Harry had truly left, if he hadn't had to see him, if he hadn't come to his room... if he had slit his wrists instead of his thigh   
and left Draco alone...   
  
That did it, he definitely wasn't hard any more. Draco curled around himself and wrapped his arms around his body.   
  
In the bathroom Harry leant against the wall and took a couple of deep breaths. That had been close, and yet he hadn't really broken his rules. They had still been almost fully dressed and no hands had strayed below the waist. The letter of their law was unbroken even if the spirit had gotten a little mangled. But he wondered, if Draco hadn't stopped things would he have stopped them? Maybe it didn't matter, as long as Draco kept his word. He undressed to take a quick shower, he needed the extra time it would give him. Why was it so easy for Draco to say stop? Well, that was pretty obvious. It was because Draco wasn't a fucked up pervert with no control over his own sex drive. Unlike Harry. Under the hot spray of water he grasped himself harshly and the rough grip only aroused him more. Draco wasn't turned on by pain, not like Harry. Draco didn't need sex, although Harry had done a great job of making him want it when he'd been doing just fine without it before. As Harry berated himself for his corruption of Draco he jerked himself until he finally came hard. Then he cleaned up and washed away every trace of it. Finally, more composed, he went back into the bedroom wrapped in a towel. He'd have to borrow pyjamas from Draco, he hadn't brought any.   
  
Draco was lying on the bed staring at nothing and feeling a bit sorry for himself. He heard Harry come back through and thought about moving, but didn't.   
  
"Um, can I borrow a pair of pyjamas?" Harry asked.   
  
Draco rolled over and was completely distracted out of his sulk by damp Harry in a towel. So much so that he forgot to answer Harry.   
  
"Draco?"   
   
"Sorry... what?" Draco tore his eyes from Harry's stomach up to his face.   
  
"Pyjamas."   
  
Draco looked down at himself in confusion a moment, he wasn't wearing pyjamas, then he remembered the original question. "Right, yes, of course." He shook his head to clear it and went over to his chest of drawers. Get a grip, he thought to himself. You're getting really pathetic.   
  
\---------  
Notes: the poetry included in this chapter is as follows...  
  
Shall I compare thee to a summers day?  
Thou art more lovely and more temperate.  
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,  
and summer's lease hath all too short a date.  
\- from Sonnet 18 by William Shakespeare  
  
You frame my thoughts and fashion me within.   
You stop my tongue and teach my heart to speak.   
You calm the storm that passion did begin,   
strong through your cause, but by your virtue weak.   
Dark is the world, where your light shined never.   
Well is he born, that may behold you ever.  
\- from Sonnet VIII Amoretti and Epithalamion by Edmund Spenser  
  
Of this world's theatre in which we stay,   
my love like the spectator idly sits.   
Beholding me that all the pageants play,   
disguising diversly my troubled wits.  
\- from Sonnet LIV, Amoretti and Epithalamion by Edmund Spenser  
  
When I all weary had the chase forsook  
The gentle dear returned the self-same way,   
thinking to quench her thirst at the next brook.   
There she beholding me with milder look,   
sought not to fly, but fearless still did bide.   
Till I in hand her yet half trembling took   
and with her own goodwill her firmly tied.   
\- from Sonnet LXVII, Amoretti and Epithalamion by Edmund Spenser  
  
When in the chronicle of wasted time   
I see descriptions of the fairest wights   
And beauty making beautiful old rhyme   
In praise of ladies dead and lovely knights,   
Then, in the blazon of sweet beauty's best,   
Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow,   
I see their antique pen would have expressed   
Even such a beauty as you master now.   
So all their praises are but prophecies   
Of this our time, all you prefiguring;   
And, for they looked but with divining eyes,   
They had not skill enough your worth to sing:   
  For we, which now behold these present days,   
  Have eyes to wonder, but lack tongues to praise.  
\- Sonnet 106 by William Shakespeare  
  
For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings,   
that then I scorn to change my state with kings.  
\- From Sonnet 29 by William Shakespeare  
  
Her gesture, motion and her smiles, her wit, her voice, my heart beguiles.   
Beguiles my heart, I know not why, and yet I love her till I die  
\- There is a lady sweet and kind by Thomas Ford

 


	8. Tea With Hagrid

**Monday 27th October**

Sirius began his guard duties proper that morning, meeting Draco at the door of his room to escort him to his first class.  
  
Harry finally had to face facts, and more to the point he finally had to face his classmates. It was Care of Magical Creatures first thing this morning and most of his friends had stuck with it out of loyalty to Hagrid. So that meant not just Hermione and Ron but also Seamus and Dean.  
  
However it turned out that neither of these four were his immediate problem because the first person he came face to face with was Hagrid. Eating breakfast with Draco had meant he was slightly out of sync with his classmates and he was the first to arrive.  
  
"Harry!"  
  
Hagrid's face lit up with hopeful concern and Harry's heart sank a little. Not Hagrid too.  
  
"I bin so worried since Sirius got here. An' then Ron 'n Hermione were here yesterday looking for you and I was thinkin' I hardly ever see you any more 'cept in class. I bin hearing things."  
  
"What things?" asked Harry, trying to sound nonchalant.  
  
Hagrid frowned. "Just things, here an' there an' there was a meeting... but you don't need to know about that."  
  
"A meeting! About what?"  
  
"Now, Harry, it wasn't nothing. Just a few teachers..."  
  
"McGonagall! She told you didn't she!"  
  
"She didn't tell us nothing, Harry, just to keep an eye on you. That maybe I should invite you over to tea and she's right, you haven't been over for tea since before all that fuss with You-Know-Who."  
  
Fuss! Harry almost laughed. "It was a bit more than a fuss."  
  
"Well, I wouldn't know that now would I. Being as nobody round here talks to me any more."  
   
"You're right," said Harry to placate him. "We should all come round for tea sometime."  
  
"You could bring that Draco Malfoy too if you like," Hagrid suggested casually.  
  
"What?" Harry nearly fell over.  
  
"Well you lot are all friends now, right? Saved your life I heard. So if he wants to come to tea then I suppose that would be all right. Forgive and forget I say. No harm done after all."  
  
"Right, right," said Harry, composing himself. Hagrid didn't know anything, unless he had suddenly developed a sense of subtlety, which seemed pretty unlikely. "It might not be a good idea though, with his life in danger and everything."  
  
"He'd be safe with me," Hagrid sniffed. "And Sirius could come along too. Poor lad could probably do with a nice cup of tea in good company."  
  
Harry was feeling unexpectedly light hearted, it rather sounded as though Hagrid had decided to take Draco under his wing with the rest of them. Mind you that might not last if he spent any time in Draco's company. Draco had a way with people and it was often a way out the door. Not that he couldn't be polite if he tried, he could be utterly charming when he decided to be.  
  
At that point Harry heard the rest of the class approaching, Ron and Hermione in the forefront. He suddenly noticed they were holding hands. It took only moments for Hermione to notice him noticing and she blushed and pulled her hand back self-consciously. Ron looked startled and there was a brief whispered conversation which they both came out of looking a little sulky. Great, thought Harry, my very presence jinxes relationships. He was nervous facing them all after Friday night, it being the weekend he had managed to avoid everyone, but Seamus and Dean were bound to know something of what had happened since he had left the evidence lying in the middle of his bed. How much had they seen?  
  
"We missed you at breakfast," Hermione said when they drew nearer.  
  
Harry wondered what to say, it wasn't like they didn't know where he was. "I'll be at lunch," he managed.  
  
Hermione smiled and elbowed Ron who was apparently still sulking over whatever had been said about the hand holding.  
  
"Yeah, great," said Ron unconvincingly. "No, really," he added. "I'm glad you're feeling better."  
  
"All right then, Harry?" said Dean tentatively as he and Seamus came up.  
  
"I'm fine!" snapped Harry unexpectedly. "I did something stupid, I got yelled at by McGonagall, I won't do it again, I'm sorry and I'm fine. Will that do?" As soon as he shut his mouth he knew it had been an overreaction, it had come out harsher than he'd intended. He'd just wanted to get it past.  
  
"Er..." said Dean, taking a step backwards. "Okay, then."  
  
"Take it easy, Harry," said Seamus. Hermione had her worried face back on.  
  
"Sorry, I just..." Harry took a deep breath. "I just don't like everybody knowing my business. It's like I'm some soap opera you're all following."  
  
"It's not like that, Harry," Hermione said quietly. "It's just hard to know what to say to you these days."  
  
"Just say what we always used to say. Talk about class, talk about Quidditch..."  
  
"Speaking of Quidditch," said Ron. "You've missed a pile of practice sessions. Are you still playing on the team?"  
  
"What? There were practice sessions?"  
  
"We tried to tell you but you haven't been paying any attention. It's a completely different team now Oliver's gone and Alicia decided to drop out to concentrate on her NEWTS. They didn't mind you missing practice at first since they were breaking in the two new players but they're starting to get pretty annoyed. They brought in a third year to substitute for you, I think her name's Fisher."  
  
"Did they ever decide which of them was going to be Captain?"  
  
"They've been taking it in turns, whoever feels the most inspired that day gets to be Captain. It's working out not bad. No-one can tell the difference between them anyway. There's a practice tonight after dinner, can you go?"  
  
Much to Harry's relief, and Hermione's annoyance, they quickly fell into a deep discussion about this year's Quidditch teams and for a little while it was almost as if everything were back to normal.  
  
\-----------------------  
  
Harry didn't see Draco again that day until he made his way to his bedroom late that night, hidden under his invisibility cloak. It had been a pretty good day, all in. He hadn't realised how much he had missed Quidditch until he had flown up into the sky on his broom and felt all of his worries fade away. He made a mental note to himself to always play Quidditch no matter what else was going on in his life.  
  
Maybe he should try and get Draco to... but no, that would hardly work would it. He couldn't even leave his room without Sirius to guard him, flying around on a broom would be out of the question. He had come close enough to being killed playing Quidditch enough times without letting Draco have a go at it. He had visions of Draco plunging a hundred feet off a cursed broomstick or having his neck broken by a rogue bludger and shook his head vigorously to get rid of them. Definitely no Quidditch. Shame though, it would have been fun to go up against Draco again now that they were... well, whatever it was they were.  
  
Harry sighed. 'Still no idea what I'm doing,' he thought. 'No idea whatsoever.' He knocked lightly on the door and waited for Draco to let him in.  
  
When the door opened he was surprised to see Dumbledore sitting at the small table in the corner finishing off a cup of tea.  
  
"Invisible guests?" he remarked. "Come in, Harry. I was just leaving."  
  
Harry pulled off the cloak and stepped sheepishly into the room. "I just... I don't want people to talk."  
  
"I quite understand. People do talk, don't they." He gave Harry a kind but intense look as if he were trying to figure something out. "And how was Quidditch practice this evening?"  
  
"Great! I can't believe I missed so many practices. Did you know Fred and George almost replaced me?"  
  
"I had heard, it is perhaps a good idea to have a substitute around. Just in case of... emergencies."  
  
"Well they won't need her, I'm definitely playing in the match next month. We're going to win the cup this year, show Oliver you don't need to be completely Quidditch mad to do it. Fred says he keeps owling them with tips."  
  
Temporarily unobserved, Draco smiled at Harry's enthusiasm. He seemed a little more like the old Harry with his cheeks still a bit pink from the wind and his eyes bright with excitement and determination. He wondered how he had managed to go four whole years without noticing how amazing Harry was. Of course he'd actually been well aware Harry was amazing, it had just had a very different effect on him at the time. Instead of affection and desire it had invoked jealousy and insecurity. He had wanted what Harry had, to be special. The more he pronounced that he was better, the less special he really felt, as if every declaration decreased his internal standing as he became more and more desperate to win just once. It was like looking back on another person, he felt sorry for that boy who only wanted his father to praise him. That boy who had ignored his own motives and tried to make himself into the perfect son by blindly believing everything his father told him about the world, about himself, about Harry Potter. So angry and afraid of failing, running so fast just to stay still. He had shoved the fact that he didn't really like being the centre of attention down so far he had almost forgotten it was true. He didn't want to be special any more, he'd happily leave that to people like Harry who just were without having to try.  
  
He realised Dumbledore had stood up and pulled his attention back to the here and now.  
  
"Well, I shall be getting along. Thank you for the tea, Draco."  
  
"It was a pleasure, Headmaster."  
  
"Good night, Harry."  
  
"Night."  
  
Harry let Dumbledore out and closed the door behind him, staring thoughtfully at it for a second before turning to Draco. "What was that about?" he asked.  
  
Draco shrugged one shoulder imperceptibly. "It's Monday night, he always comes to talk to me on Monday night."  
  
"What do you talk about?"  
  
"You mean do we talk about you."  
  
"No," Harry protested. "I was just... curious."  
  
"We talk about all sorts of things. School, my family, Voldemort."  
  
Harry folded his cloak and put it over the back of a chair as he changed the subject. "I really did enjoy getting back to Quidditch. It's a shame you can't play any more."  
  
"I don't mind, I miss the flying, but not the rest. I only had my father buy me onto the team so that I could beat you."  
  
"But you were always talking about it..."  
  
"I talked about a lot of things when I was younger. I think it's safe to say that ninety percent of everything I said was rubbish. I love flying, but I'm not much for team sports and I'm perfectly happy to be out of the limelight these days. Besides, you always beat me."  
  
Harry grinned. "Beating you was half the fun, it won't be the same without that to look forward to."  
  
"I'm so glad someone was getting pleasure out of my misery," Draco answered with faked irritation. "You know Slytherin would have had the cup in 3rd year if people would stop buying you ridiculously fast brooms, you'd never have caught the Snitch before me without that Firebolt and you know it."  
  
Harry shrugged. "Maybe."  
  
"No maybe about it, you got distracted and I didn't. If we'd been on the same broom Slytherin would have won."  
  
"If we'd been on the same broom I might have noticed what a nice body you had a lot sooner," Harry answered with a grin. "But I don't think it would have helped either of us catch the snitch."  
  
"Quit trying to change the subject, you know I'm right."  
  
"Fine, you're right. If I hadn't had the fastest broom in the school I would never have caught the snitch before you and Slytherin would have won the Quidditch cup. Happy?"  
  
"I suppose. So, does this newly rediscovered joy in Quidditch mean you haven't missed me today?"  
  
Harry smiled at him and walked over slowly. "Haven't missed you at all," he said softly. "I didn't think about you once. I didn't think about your eyes or your hands or your lips..." He tilted his head up to kiss him and Draco let him take the lead a moment before grasping two fistfuls of Harry's robes and pulling him closer.  
  
"I want to ask you something," Draco said when they pulled apart.  
  
"What?" Harry managed before moving to lick Draco's neck.  
  
Draco was tempted to wait for another time but he wanted to get things planned if Harry said yes. "I was hoping we could do something together for Samhain."  
  
Harry looked up at him in confusion. "For what?"  
  
"Samhain... Halloween."  
  
"Oh, you mean aside from the feast."  
  
"I mean instead of the feast, it's not like I can go to the feast for a start."  
  
"I suppose not, this being in mortal peril thing is really starting to be annoying."  
  
Draco rolled his eyes. "Starting?"  
  
"Well... yeah. So what did you want to do?"  
  
"I thought we could do something traditional, Dumbledore's big on everything at school being non-denominational but my family have always followed the old  
beliefs."  
  
"What... you mean you're pagans?" Harry asked in amazement.  
  
"Of course we are, you know what my family's like for tradition. Though to be honest I'm not sure my mother or father believe any of it. But, occasional crises of faith aside, I do. I only wish I'd been able to take Ancient Runes and Divination, but my father wouldn't let me. Made me take Arithmancy and Politics and Law instead. At least there are religion modules in my History classes."  
  
Harry just stared at him like he'd grown an extra head.  
  
"What, you thought we were Christian?"  
  
"I dunno, I suppose... or atheists. It's just... well I keep forgetting how different things are from the Muggle world. There's stuff I automatically assume and if it doesn't come up I forget to question it. In the Muggle world almost everyone's an atheist these days or else they're Protestant or sometimes Catholic. In Britain anyway. The only pagans are weird folk who pretend to be King Arthur and dance around Stonehenge at Midsummer."  
  
"I was at Stonehenge last midsummer," said Draco tightly. It had been one of the few bright spots in his summer vacation. "My family go there every year."  
  
"Oh," said Harry. "Um..."  
  
"And that King Arthur thing's just a ruse to amuse the Muggle's."  
   
"Right, well I didn't know that did I. The school never does anything like that."  
  
"Like I said, Professor Dumbledore has a bee in his beard about keeping everything non-denominational. It's just one of the many things my father dislikes about him. So they have a Halloween feast instead of celebrating Samhain, but older students are allowed to go to the Hogsmeade Samhain bonfire. Quite a few people still follow the old ways, but most students stay at school for the feast to be with their friends."  
  
"What about Christmas, that's hardly non-denominational."  
  
"The school celebrations are, and it's Yule not Christmas. Just food and presents and sometimes a ball, not very religious."  
  
"So what do you do, for... Sow... I thought it was Samane. That's what it says in the books."  
  
"That's how it's spelt, s-a-m-h-a-i-n, but it's pronounced sow-in. Or at least that's the pronunciation we've always used, there are a couple of other ways to say it too depending on your tradition."  
  
Harry repeated it carefully. "So what do you want to do for it? We're not going to sacrifice chickens are we?"  
  
Draco glared at him darkly.  
  
"I was only joking!"  
  
"This was a stupid idea," he muttered and stalked over to sit on the bed.  
  
"Don't sulk, I didn't mean it." Harry joined him on the bed, sitting side on to him as though they were on an invisible love chair so he could look at Draco. He ran his hand down Draco's arm. "I just don't know much about it, I never pay attention in History of Magic. Tell me what you wanted to do."  
  
"Sirius is pagan too you know," said Draco grumpily.  
  
"He is? How do you know?"  
  
"Because I asked him if he would help arrange what I wanted to do."  
  
"And he agreed?"  
  
"He figured if no-one but us and him knew I was going anywhere then how could anyone plan to kill me while I'm out. He'll keep an eye out for us and he said he'd get Hagrid to help out too. But he's not going to tell him what for until the day itself."  
  
"Figures," said Harry. "Hagrid has a bad habit of accidentally telling people things he shouldn't. Don't you think maybe you should have waited till I said yes before you organised it all?"  
  
"I wanted to be sure it was possible before I asked you. So, yes or no?"  
  
"I don't have to take my clothes off do I?"  
  
"I don't know, are you more likely to say yes if you do or if you don't?"  
  
"Very funny. I'm not prancing around outside in the nude no matter what deity wants me to."  
  
"Some of them can be pretty persuasive."  
  
"Draco..."  
  
"Nudity is not required."  
  
"And no blood sacrifices, especially ones that involve my blood."  
  
"Good grief, Harry. No blood sacrifices, no nudity, no upside down pentacles and I promise you won't have to have sex with Satan or any of his little helpers. All right?"  
  
"Sure, why not. I might even promise not to laugh... too much."  
  
Draco looked as if he wished he'd never brought it up.  
  
Harry decided to change the subject. "Anyway, speaking of Hagrid..."  
  
"We were?"  
  
"Well, you mentioned him. He invited us all over for tea sometime."  
  
"Us all being?"  
  
"Me, you, Sirius, Ron and Hermione... and Fang will probably be there, unfortunately."  
  
"Look, I don't mean to be rude, but I really don't want to start hanging around with Hagrid. Sirius is all right and I'll put up with Granger and Weasley for you but I have to draw the line somewhere."  
   
"What?"  
  
"When it comes to Hagrid you have to admit that you're blind to his faults, you're as bad as Dumbledore, acting like he's some sort of paragon. He's not terribly clever, he drinks too much, he's an awful teacher... he's barely human."  
  
Harry gaped at him. He was so angry he couldn't figure out where to begin. "He is not an awful teacher," he finally spluttered.  
  
"Yes, he is."  
  
"He was a bit shaky his first year, but that was your damn fault so you've got no right to fault him for it!"  
  
"Being savaged was my fault? Typical Gryffindor, always sticking up for their friends even when they're wrong."  
  
"It was your fault, you weren't listening."  
  
"That's beside the point, those animals were too dangerous for a bunch of inexperienced thirteen year olds. Someone could have been killed."  
  
"Bullshit, Neville nearly got killed in our first flying lesson. Does that mean Madame Hooch is a terrible teacher?"  
  
"Longbottom could barely escape from a pillow fight with his life," Draco scoffed. "You can hardly use him as an example."  
  
"And yet he managed to handle a hippogriff just fine," Harry countered. "Unlike you."  
  
"Well who was to know they were that damn sensitive," Draco blustered. "You'd think I'd pulled it's tail. I didn't even know it understood what I was saying. Damn thing nearly took my arm off!"  
  
On the verge of a retort Harry suddenly realised something. "You're embarrassed," he crowed.  
  
"What?"  
  
"That's what it was all about. You made a mistake and you were embarrassed so you pinned all the blame and all the attention on Hagrid. You big coward. You still can't even admit it."  
  
"I did not make a mistake!" Draco answered turning red.  
  
"Get off your high horse, Malfoy. You fucked up."  
  
Draco was flushed. In his heart he knew Harry was right but he had spent so much time talking himself into believing the story he had concocted that he had almost forgotten the truth. "Hagrid should have been more careful," he muttered, frowning down at the bed covers and unconsciously sticking out his lower lip.  
  
Harry shook his head in exasperation. "You know what the worst of it is?" he asked, then continued without waiting for an answer. "It's not the fact that you still can't back down, it's that I find it so cute that you won't. All stubborn and pouty."  
  
"I am not pouting!" exclaimed Draco in horror, immediately pulling his lips into a thin, straight line.  
  
Harry grinned. "Now you're not, half a second ago you were very definitely pouting. It was adorable."  
  
"I am not adorable, I haven't been adorable since I was six."  
  
"Look on the bright side, a few minutes ago I was ready to kick your arse. One little pout and you have me twisted around your little finger. At this rate I'll start quoting love sonnets too and if we get to that stage I want you to promise to sell me out to Voldemort before I humiliate myself completely."  
  
"Twisted round my little finger?" said Draco, looking a little happier at that.  
  
"For a moment, but the moment is passing," Harry warned. "You are going to come to tea at Hagrid's and what's more you are going to apologise to him for what happened with Buckbeak."  
  
"I am not!"  
  
"Yes, you are. It's the least you can do since he has apparently decided to forgive you already."  
  
"But..."  
  
"This isn't a request."  
  
"You're ordering me to apologise? What happened to twisted round my little finger?"  
  
"It wore off."  
  
"I could pout again..."  
  
"I'm serious. Tell me you'll do it."  
  
Draco cast him a very black look but Harry remained resolute. "I'm not doing it in front of Weasley and Granger," he said huffily. "And I'm not saying it was my fault."  
  
"Tomorrow lunchtime at Hagrid's hut," said Harry. "I'll ask Ron and Hermione to come late."  
  
Draco nodded and went off to change for bed.  
  
When he came back Harry said, "You really wanted to take Divination?"  
  
Draco nodded. "I've read up on it a bit myself but I always seem to have so much other work."  
  
"You're really not missing anything, it's awful. All the teacher ever does is go on about my imminent death and you get better marks for making up your homework  
than you get doing it properly."  
  
"Really?" Draco looked disappointed.  
  
"Well, it's just that I don't think she can really see the future. Except once..."  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"After my third year exam, she went into this weird trance and said some stuff in a funny voice. Then she couldn't remember it afterwards. Dumbledore said he thought it might have been a real prophecy."  
  
"Did it come true?"  
  
"Yeah," said Harry, thinking about Wormtail's escape and the awful events it had brought about. If only he had killed him when he had the chance. "Yeah, it did." He shivered and wrapped his arms around himself.  
  
"Hey, what's wrong?" Draco asked, climbing onto the bed to hold him.  
  
"Just bad memories, I'm fine," Harry said, but he leaned into Draco's embrace.  
  
  
\---------------------  
Tuesday 28th October  
  
Harry had a nice lie in during his free periods and met Draco and Sirius outside Draco's Charms class before lunch. He wasn't going to rely on Draco showing up at Hagrid's on his own even if it did mean putting up with the taunts of Draco's old friends, it would be far too easy for Draco to claim he had forgotten about lunch. It was nothing he hadn't heard before although the jibes of "look Draco, your boyfriend's here to meet you" cut a little too close for comfort. He consoled himself with the fact that they had no idea it was actually true, they thought it was just another way to insult them.  
  
Draco followed him, walking far slower than his usual stride, with Sirius on his heels keeping a sharp eye out for anyone lurking about. He did not want to do this. It wasn't fair, Harry hadn't made him apologise to Weasley or Granger for any of the stuff he'd done. Why did he have to apologise to that stupid oaf, Hagrid, for something that wasn't even his fault? He hadn't sentenced the hippogriff to death, all he'd done was get viciously attacked by it. If his father hadn't stood up for his rights Hagrid probably wouldn't have even got into trouble for it. The hippogriff had been dangerous, Hagrid was probably dangerous too. Letting a giant teach children, he probably thought it was funny to let them play with vicious animals. Look at those ridiculous creatures he bred last year, as if there weren't enough dangerous creatures around without him making new ones! He hadn't shed any tears over Draco nearly losing his arm, only over his precious bloody hippogriff!  
  
Draco's mental tirade was interrupted by their arrival at the hut Hagrid lived in.  
  
"Nervous?" asked Harry.  
  
"No!" said Draco too sharply. There was a very large, very sharp looking axe leaning against the wall outside the door.  
  
"It'll be fine," Harry tried to soothe him. "Hagrid's great, you'll see. You just need to get to know him."  
  
"Let's just get this over with before Weasley shows up."  
  
Harry rolled his eyes and knocked on the door. A moment later it swung open and there stood Hagrid, nearly twice the height of the two boys and as wide as five of them. Draco had a sudden urge to run away.  
  
"Harry," boomed Hagrid. "An' you brought Malfoy."  
  
Hagrid eyed him and Draco was sure he had changed his mind about him coming to tea.  
  
"Come on in then."  
  
Harry pushed Draco in with a hand on the small of his back and shut the door behind Sirius. When he turned back Hagrid was bustling around making tea.  
  
"Where's Ron 'n Hermione, then?" Hagrid asked.  
  
"They'll be here soon," said Harry. "Just running a little late." He prodded Draco in the ribs.  
  
"Ow! Um..."  
  
Hagrid looked over at them.  
  
"I..."  
  
"Go on," said Harry, sotto voce.  
  
"I just wanted to say... ah... sorry, about the hippogriff," Draco blurted.  
  
Before Harry could demand a better apology than that Hagrid enveloped Draco in an unexpected and bone cracking hug. Draco froze in shock.  
  
"I knew it!" Hagrid exclaimed thickly. "I knew you din't mean it. Just a kid an' with that Lucius Malfoy as a dad! An' then you go an' save Harry's life from You-Know-Who an' I said to myself, that Draco Malfoy's not so bad really. Kid's can be cruel but they grow out of it don' they? An' now You-Know-Who wants to kill you too, jus' like Harry. S'terrible."  
  
"Help!" squeaked Draco in Harry's general direction. "I can't breathe."  
  
Hagrid finally let him go and Draco nearly fell over, luckily Harry caught him. He grasped at Harry's arms in shock, looking vaguely terrified.  
  
"Are you okay?" Harry whispered.  
  
Draco just stared at him, then at Hagrid, then back at Harry.  
  
"Told you Hagrid was great."  
  
"He nearly crushed me to death," Draco managed. "I think he cracked a rib."  
  
Luckily Hagrid was over by the fire nursing the kettle to boiling point and couldn't really hear them.  
  
"He's just... exuberant," said Harry. "He means well."  
  
Draco shook his head in disbelief as Harry led him over to the bed, he still hadn't let go of Harry's arm as they sat down. There were only two chairs and a stool in Hagrid's small hut so the bed had to make do as a sofa.  
  
"Don't eat any of the food," Harry whispered suddenly as Hagrid turned around with a plateful of cakes of some sort.  
  
Just then there was another knock on the door. Sirius leapt up to sniff at the door before anyone else could do anything but he stood aside to let Hagrid open it as it was only Ron and Hermione.  
  
\------  
  
"Do you know," said Hermione as they walked down the corridor towards their Transfiguration classroom. "I think Draco's afraid of Hagrid."  
  
"You noticed," said Harry. "I thought so too."  
  
"Really?" said Ron with a grin. "Makes sense, he always was a coward."  
  
"He didn't look like a coward when he was saving our lives," said Harry pointedly.  
  
"Er, yeah, right," stammered Ron. "I just meant... well he ran screaming fast enough that time up by the Shrieking Shack."  
  
"That was two years ago," Harry argued. "And you're one to talk, scared of a few spiders."  
  
"They tried to eat us!"  
  
"I wasn't talking about the giant kind."  
  
"Besides, just because Malfoy can stand up for himself when it really comes down to it doesn't mean he's not a coward the rest of the time."  
  
"Draco is not a coward," Harry said firmly. "I'm sure Hagrid can seem pretty scary to someone who doesn't know him. He scared me when I first saw him. Plus he's never liked Slytherins so he's probably not very nice to them."  
  
"Who can blame him," Ron noted.  
   
"They're not all bad," said Hermione suddenly.  
  
"Says who!" said Ron, shocked.  
  
"Well there's Draco," she said. "And there's other Slytherins in some of my classes that seem okay, that girl... what's her name? Davis. She seems okay. They tend not to say as much as the nasty ones. After all their house has such a bad reputation that probably no-one outside their house will talk to them. Besides, it stands to reason they can't all be bad. Just ambitious and all the other things the hat looks for in Slytherins. I've always wondered why your brother didn't get put in Slytherin."  
  
"What!? Which brother?"  
  
"Percy of course, he's always seemed very ambitious."  
  
"Maybe he didn't want to be in Slytherin," said Harry thoughtfully.  
  
"Why would that matter?" she asked him curiously.  
  
He wondered whether to tell them, it seemed the ideal time and surely it didn't really matter now. "The sorting hat... well, it wanted to put me in Slytherin but it wasn't sure and I really wanted to be in Gryffindor because Ron had told me about Slytherin and so it put me in Gryffindor."  
  
Ron gaped at him.  
  
"If I hadn't already wanted to be in Gryffindor I'd probably be in Slytherin now."  
  
"You're kidding," said Ron.  
  
"It's true. Maybe the hat does that a lot, puts people where they want to be. You got in the house you wanted to didn't you."  
  
"I didn't know what house I wanted to be in, I didn't really mind," Hermione said. "I figured the sorting hat would put me wherever was best."  
  
"Look at Draco, he wanted to be in Slytherin and that's where he went. The hat hardly even touched his head so it can't have looked at him very carefully. It just saw that he was set on being a Slytherin."  
  
"Either that or it saw what a slimy git he was, you didn't have to look very deep for that," said Ron.  
  
Harry looked daggers at him.  
  
"I meant back then," he said taking a step away in case Harry tried to hit him. "Not now. Then."  
  
They entered the classroom and sat down, conversation over. There was never much chance for chit chat in Professor McGonagall's classes.

 


	9. Snape's Betrayal

**Tuesday 28th October**

Harry sat down to dinner with a reasonably contented feeling. Lunch with Hagrid had gone better than expected, although some of the things Draco had said last night still bothered him. He just hoped that it was old prejudices that would wear off with time. Draco had changed a lot but you couldn't expect someone to change completely overnight. Still, there was a niggling voice that said, what if Draco had done all the changing he was going to. Was he really as different as he seemed to be? But no, he wasn't going to worry about it now. He had enough on his plate without starting to question Draco. He had saved his life, for weeks now he had done nothing but try and make Harry happy. Well aside from that potion thing, but his father hadn't given him any choice about that. It didn't matter now anyway. He had apologised to Hagrid, he was being nice to Ron and Hermione, he liked Sirius, and he was respecting Harry's wishes. Everything was going fine.

Seamus, Dean and Neville came over and sat down opposite them, although Neville was paying more attention to Ginny, who was not far down the table, than to anyone else.

"What happened to you lot at lunch?" Seamus asked. "Visiting with Malfoy?"

Harry frowned up at them.

"We were at Hagrid's," said Hermione quickly. "Not that it's any of your business."

"Just asking," said Seamus. "No need to bite my head off."

Hermione gave him a look that implied he was on very thin ice despite his recent good behaviour.

Harry sighed, he couldn't keep growling at people for just mentioning Draco. People knew they were friends now, they sat next to one another in the classes they had together, the whole school knew that Draco had somehow rescued Harry, Ron and Hermione from Malfoy Manor. How much of what happened they knew and how much they believed depended on how well they were connected to the school grapevine and whether or not they believed Voldemort had returned. A sizeable proportion of the wizarding community believed the Ministry of Magic's denials on that front despite Dumbledore's speech at the end of last year. "It's okay, Hermione," he said finally. "I think I can cope with the occasional mention of Draco's name."

Hermione looked surprised.

"In fact," he continued. "Draco came to Hagrid's with us."

Seamus looked like he was holding back a comment of some sort, but he just nodded companionably.

Hermione glowered at him as if she could read his mind. Luckily Ron chose that moment to try and put his hand surreptitiously on her leg. It would have been perfectly unobtrusive if Hermione hadn't yelped and slapped it away. "Ron," she hissed. "Not at dinner."

Harry stifled an inappropriate grin at the outrage on Hermione's face and the bewildered annoyance on Ron's.

"What's the point in being your boyfriend if I'm not allowed to touch you!" he complained loudly enough to turn several nearby heads.

"Ron!" Hermione was thoroughly scandalised. "You're causing a scene."

Seamus and Dean were visibly sniggering behind their hands by now, as was Harry.

It was nice not to be the centre of the fuss for a change.

"I am not causing a scene," said Ron. "You are though. What'd you go and kiss me for if you don't want me to touch you?"

Hermione was speechless at this indiscretion.

"Women!" said Ron to the room in general. "Don't understand them at all."

Hermione made a muffled squeak of suppressed anger and humiliation then stalked off to sit with Ginny. They ducked their heads in close conversation as Ron frowned after them.

"My own sister..." he muttered.

"Maybe Harry's got the right idea," said Seamus. "Staying well out of it."

Ron turned back to them sharply, looking concerned.

Harry ducked his head and concentrated on eating his dinner as if he hadn't heard anything. He wasn't really sure what to say, if anything. Yes, he was gay. He could hardly deny that any more. Besides, Seamus hadn't actually said it. But he didn't want it to be an accepted thing, bandied about in casual conversation. How much harder would it be to move past this if the people he hung about with started treating it as if it were normal? What if he got used to his friends accepting it and forgot that the rest of the world didn't work that way? Still, a little part of him said, what if it really was okay? What if you could just relax and be with Draco and it didn't matter? It was a nice thought, a very tempting thought.

He finished up his dinner quietly, he looked deep in thought but he wasn't so much thinking as moping. He decided to take his homework to Draco's room, if he went back to the common room he'd only get caught up in Ron and Hermione's little drama. Besides he wanted to see Draco, whatever Draco said there was no denying Harry simply liked being around him. Even when the air was tense with desire or the words they spoke were filled with conflict it was better than being alone.

\----------------

**Wednesday 29th October**

By the morning it seemed Ron and Hermione had made up again. Every now and then Ron would cast Hermione a certain knowing look that would turn her cheeks bright red, but he kept his hands to himself.

The day started well but a buzz started to circulate as classes ended for lunch. The rumour passed from person to person that Snape had been suspended from his teaching duties and placed under house arrest by Dumbledore. Fred and George, ever in the midst of things, claimed he had been caught trying to bewitch one of the house elves to poison Malfoy's lunch. His late morning class had been cancelled and nobody had seen him since breakfast.

"Why would Snape try and poison Malfoy?" Ron asked Harry. "I thought Malfoy was the only person he actually liked."

"I don't know. Maybe the rumour's nonsense and Snape's just ill or something," Harry said uncertainly. "We should wait and see if any of the teachers say anything at lunch. Besides if Snape was going to poison anyone it would be me."

"Maybe it was you he was trying to poison, you eat with Malfoy all the time," suggested Ron.

They were interrupted by Seamus and Dean, who spent so much time together these days Harry was starting to wonder about them. "Hey," said Dean. "We heard about Malfoy, have you spoken to him?"

"No," said Harry shortly. "I don't know anything about it. We don't even know if it's true."

"Wonder what Malfoy'll say when he finds out his favourite teacher tried to do him in," said Seamus thoughtfully.

"Snape didn't try and kill Draco," protested Harry, feeling very odd to be sticking up for Snape of all people. "There must be a mistake."

But whatever was going on Snape wasn't in the Great Hall for lunch. As the meal drew to a close Dumbledore stood up. "A small announcement," he said and everyone fell silent in anticipation. "Professor Snape will be unavailable due to... unexpected circumstances. First through to fourth year potions classes are cancelled until further notice. Fifth through seventh years should report as usual and arrangements will be made for some sort of supervision until a substitute teacher is found. That is all."

With that Dumbledore left the hall leaving them none the wiser as to what was really going on.

"He didn't say he was ill," reasoned Ron. "If he was really ill he would have just said he was ill. Unexpected circumstances... sounds pretty suspicious to me."

"It doesn't look good," agreed Hermione. "But we don't know anything for sure."

"Bet he did it," said Seamus decisively. "He's a nasty piece of work all right."

Harry sighed. He couldn't really argue otherwise without endangering Snape's position as a spy and this was surely something to do with that. He'd suspected Snape before and been wrong, but he still didn't trust the man. Nobody who hated someone who had done nothing to them as much as Snape hated Harry could be good.

They had Charms after lunch and then Hermione went off to her History class where she intended to ask Draco if he knew what was going on. Harry headed for Dumbledore's office and rang the small bell he now knew you could use to notify the headmaster someone was waiting to see him. Considerably more practical than trying to guess the password or hanging around outside in the hopes that someone would let you in.

The first words to leave his lips when he walked into the Headmaster's office were, "What's going on?" Dumbledore looked at him patiently. "Everyone's saying Snape tried to poison Draco, but he can't have."

"I'm afraid the rumours are quite true, Harry," Dumbledore replied gravely.

"What?!"

"We seem to have underestimated Professor Snape's fear of Voldemort, he was caught in the kitchens trying to put a house elf under a form of Imperius. Luckily for us we set up considerable precautions to prevent such tampering after the last incident. I have placed him under house arrest until I can decide how best to proceed."

"I don't understand... you said we could trust him."

"I am, on occasion, mistaken. I do hope this will not be too great a blow to Mr Malfoy, I believe he had been spending considerable time with Professor Snape recently."

Harry frowned, "That doesn't make sense either, Snape sees Draco all the time. Why not try and kill him when they're together?"

"I'm sure Professor Snape had a plan. Now if you will excuse me, I do have work to do."

Harry left no more satisfied than he had arrived. It just didn't make sense. Snape trying to kill Draco he could almost believe, but Snape trying and getting caught? Snape knew potions, the castle and Draco too well for that to be believable. If he wanted Draco dead then Draco would be dead, which wasn't a pleasant thought but left him sure Snape had not tried to kill anyone.

Harry met up with Ron since they both had free periods and they spent the afternoon on the Quidditch field as Ron helped Harry make up for lost practice time. He was embarrassingly aware of his slow reactions and less than perfect form after spending so much time away from his broomstick along with his recent poor eating and sleeping patterns. He was woefully out of shape and his attention was not what it should be, which was the worst of it. The one thing a Seeker needed was focus and attention to detail, otherwise he would never be first to spot the snitch.

They met Draco and Hermione outside their History classroom and they all retired to Draco's room for an early dinner and to discuss the situation with Snape.

"He didn't do it," Draco announced as Ron closed the door.

Sirius transformed back into his natural form and immediately said, "I wouldn't be so sure."

"Well I would," Draco retorted. He was obviously a little touchy about the situation.

Knowing Sirius' deep dislike for Snape and Draco's penchant for loyalty Harry decided now would be a very good time to step in. "Let's not argue," he said quickly. "I don't think he did it either, but what I don't understand is why Dumbledore says he did. Could Snape have been forced? Imperius or something?"

"Since Professor Snape's pretending to be working for Voldemort he might have had to try and fake an attempt to keep his cover," Draco suggested.

"That sounds plausible," Hermione agreed.

"Or maybe he decided to kill you to keep his cover," Sirius suggested grimly.

Before Draco could answer Harry clapped his hand over his mouth, he had recognised the look on Draco's face. It was the look that said he was about to say something Harry would regret. "Excuse us a minute," Harry said and dragged Draco into the bathroom.

"What was that for?" Draco said, still looking surprised and a little annoyed.

"I just thought there was something you should know before you started trying to stand up for Snape against Sirius."

"And what would that be?" Draco asked, leaning insolently against the wall in a way that Harry found very distracting.

Harry decided to sum things up. "Sirius hates Snape, Snape hates Sirius. I get the impression that nothing we could say would ever change that."

Draco looked a little taken aback. "That seems a bit... childish."

"Snape really knows how to hold a grudge, in case you hadn't noticed," Harry pointed out.

"True, but I thought... well actually I thought better of Sirius. I mean Professor Snape has been good to me but I know his faults, I just thought you Gryffindor types were supposed to be above that sort of thing."

Harry shrugged. "I don't really know why Sirius hates Snape so much, maybe it would have been different if he hadn't spent 12 years in Azkaban. That's a lot of time to brood on bad thoughts. I know why Snape hates Sirius though."

"Why?" Draco's eyes lightened at the chance to get information on his rather secretive mentor.

"It was a practical joke Sirius played on him while they were at school together, a potentially fatal practical joke. My father saved him and that's why he hated my father and as a result why he hates me."

"All over one joke?"

"It wasn't very funny," said Harry wryly.

Draco looked thoughtful under his smile. "So you want me to back off on Sirius?" he said finally.

"I just don't want you two to get in a fight. It's the one thing Sirius really won't see reason on and there's just no point trying. If you'd seen the way they look at each other you'd understand what I mean."

Draco stepped closer to him. "We used to look at each other like that," he said softly.

"No we didn't," Harry said. "We didn't know enough to hate each other that much."

"Didn't you?"

"Well, maybe," Harry admitted. "But not you, I had other people to hate that much. You were just... really, really irritating."

Draco pouted, "You mean I wasn't your number one enemy? You were my number one enemy. Harry Potter, bane of my life, thorn in my side, fly in my soup..."

Harry laughed lightly then sobered. "I wish you had been my number one enemy,"

he answered, resting his head on Draco's shoulder. "My life would have been a lot simpler if you were the worst thing I ever had to deal with."

"I could try and be more evil," Draco suggested helpfully, trying to keep the tone light.

Harry just wrapped his arms tightly around Draco's waist and sighed into his robes. "We better go back out there, they'll think we're up to no good."

"We could be up to no good," Draco whispered in his ear, but it was just a tease and they both knew it. They stood there a little longer before Draco pulled away and said, "Come on then. I promise not to argue with Sirius."

Harry nodded and opened the door.

"What was that all about?" blurted Ron.

"I just needed to tell Draco something," Harry muttered, flushing despite the fact they hadn't been doing anything.

"Well, I'm starving," said Sirius, feeling very awkward. "Why don't we eat?"

They all sat down and Draco signalled to the house elves that they were ready for dinner but when it came Draco just stared at his food uncertainly. It took the others a moment to notice as they had got stuck in with gusto. It was Hermione who noticed first and nudged Harry with her elbow. He looked up and she gestured to Draco with her eyes.

When Harry looked round at him Draco was lost in thought. Despite the fact that he was at least 99.9% sure Snape hadn't tried to poison him, just the suggestion of it had brought back fears he hadn't quite got rid of yet. His stomach roiled at the thought of eating the food before him and there was an ache inside at the thought that he could no longer go to Professor Snape for help or even just to talk about things.

Without saying a word, Harry picked up the plate he had already started eating from, swapped it with Draco's and went on eating.

\--------------

**Thursday 30th October**

Snape paced in tight, swift patterns across the floor of his bedroom. The time had come for the final decision in this matter, did he go out tomorrow night to meet with Voldemort's operative or not. He was supposedly under house arrest, the rumours had been put out as to why. That hopefully covered his orders on ending Draco's life but the question was, what now? He was useless to Dumbledore locked in his rooms. It was clear he could no longer freely move around the school without arousing suspicion among the Death Eaters. The things they wanted him to do were becoming too blatant. If he was going to continue as a spy he would have to leave Hogwarts and he would be as well to do so now and meet with his contact tomorrow night as arranged.

He knew it was what he ought to do, the only thing holding him back was the fact that he really didn't want to. This had been his home for years and he didn't want to go back to Voldemort. It had been all very well when he could spy and stay at Hogwarts but to return to the bosom of the Death Eaters... he'd rather marry Sirius Black and adopt Harry Potter.

He remembered his return to the Death Eaters only a few months ago. The threat of death looming so close it was like you were halfway into the grave already. The constant tests, the paranoia and backstabbing among the newly reformed group as they tried to blame their failures and mistakes on everyone else. It had been over fourteen years since he'd had to perform an unforgivable curse, time had only made it harder and more sickening.

But that only meant he had even more to atone for, there was never really any choice. Too young and stupid not to join them, too scared to leave and then too scared not to. Too useful and too desperate not to play spy, too uninformed to save James and Lily and finally be rid of the debt he'd owed Potter. Too well placed not to go back to Voldemort, too damned to stay at Hogwarts. In too deep to ever be out again.

\--------------------

**Friday 31st October**

Triple Potions, never the most pleasant class, was a whole new experience that Friday. On the plus side, Snape wasn't there, but he left something of a power vacuum and no one was comfortable in it. The usual Gryffindor/Slytherin rivalry was part of it, but it was added to and complicated by Draco's presence. On the one hand Draco was Slytherin, on the other the majority of the people trying to kill him seemed to be Slytherin too and those who didn't know about his relationship with Harry at least knew they were friends. In fact they were sitting together along with Ron and Hermione guarded by Sirius in the form of a large black dog. That meant that most of the Gryffindors had decided he was officially one of them at least as long as the rest of the Slytherins were about.

Most of the girls along with Neville and, oddly enough, Crabbe jumped every time the dog looked their way. Sirius seemed to find this amusing and was playing up to it by being extra threatening.

Harry was nervous about the ritual tonight, the rest of the class was excited about the feast, and none of them were really sure what they were supposed to be doing for the next three hours. As a result there was a lot of gossiping and a lot of challenging glares passing around the class.

Dean and Seamus had announced at lunch that they and Neville (despite his protests) would be officially keeping an eye on the Slytherins so that Harry didn't have to worry about anyone attacking Malfoy during class. Harry had told them they didn't need to, but they were far too swept up in the idea to pay any attention to him. As a result they were sitting nearer the Slytherins than the rest of them, which was fine by Neville cause that meant he was nowhere near the dog, and were apparently trying to out stare Goyle and Millicent Bulstrode. Crabbe was too distracted by his fear of Sirius to do much staring. Blaise Zabini seemed to be trying to chat up Pansy Parkinson, unsuccessfully as she was too busy glaring at Harry and Draco, while at the same time ignoring Daphne Greengrass who was desperately trying to get him to notice her new hairdo. Lavender and Parvati were playing with a tarot deck and Ron and Harry were chatting about Quidditch and about what they wanted to buy in Hogsmeade on Saturday.

The only people in the class who appeared to be studying were Draco, Hermione and Tracey Davis.

In point of fact Draco wasn't studying, he was going over the words to the ritual he had planned tonight to make sure he remembered them without having to read them off a parchment. He was getting really nervous about their plans for that evening and being in a classroom full of people he didn't particularly like wasn't helping. Watching Harry chat to Ron wasn't helping either. It was good that Harry and Ron were getting on again, or he tried to tell himself that anyway, but when it came down to it the Harry that was friends with Ron Weasley (whom he still disliked greatly no matter what he led anyone to believe) didn't quite seem like the same Harry as the one that had once claimed to be in love with him. The Harry that hung around with Weasleys and got excited about joke shops and chocolate frogs was the old Harry. The straight Harry, the good Harry, the Harry that hated Malfoy, the Harry that had refused to be his friend and stood up for the Mudbloods and for half-breeds like Hagrid. He wasn't Harry at all, he was Potter. Potter thought being gay was wrong, Potter thought his beliefs were funny, Potter was close-minded and uptight and immature. Potter sucked.

Draco sighed and closed his Potions text with his ritual script tucked neatly inside it then settled down to stare at Harry. Harry was affectionate, Harry was adventurous and uninhibited, Harry could forgive him even the worst of his transgressions and make the nightmares go away. Harry was strangely passive and yet still protective and nurturing, kind of feminine. Maybe Potter was the male side of him, defensive and always over-thinking things. Draco was a great believer in everyone having male and female sides to their personalities no matter what their actual sex was. It was something he had meditated on a lot and that he found an essential part of doing ritual work alone. You had to be able to associate with the Lord and the Lady, and Draco had worked on finding the parts of him that had female energy. He had managed to do it but it wasn't easy, he just wasn't a very female person despite what some might consider overly pretty looks, and he identified far more strongly with the male Gods of his pantheon.

He pulled out his ritual text again and looked over it, perhaps reversing who read which part would work better. Assuming Harry agreed to read any of it of course. He looked up at Harry again and found him looking back, Hermione was getting Ron into trouble for not studying.

\---------------

Sirius slunk through the dark corridors towards Snape's rooms trying to look inconspicuous. The last thing he wanted to do was see Severus Snape but Dumbledore had insisted, at least he would find out whether this whole poisoning thing was true or not. He rather hoped it was just so that he could be further justified in hating the man.

He had loathed Severus Snape from almost the moment he had set eyes on him. They had been sniping at each other since they were eleven. Snape was a creep, pure and simple. He'd slimed his way around Hogwarts, looking down his giant nose at anyone who wanted to enjoy themselves rather than study, constantly shopping them in to the teachers. It was no surprise he'd ended up a Death Eater, and of course joining himself wasn't enough, he'd helped Sirius' little brother Regulus to get involved as well. And now Regulus was dead. Then he had walked away from it all untouched, thanks to Dumbledore. Secretly working for the right side, my arse. Sirius knew better, Severus Snape should have been the one spending twelve years in Azkaban.

When he was let into the room he found Dumbledore already there along with Hagrid.

"Ah, Sirius," said Dumbledore. "Please sit down and I will explain what is happening."

Sirius transformed and scowled at Snape. He didn't look terribly like someone about to be hauled off to Azkaban for attempted murder. "Why do I get the feeling I'm not going to like this," he muttered.

"The rumours you have heard about Professor Snape were false as you may have surmised, we decided it was best to keep the number of people who knew the truth to an absolute minimum for reasons of security."

"Those people being?" Sirius asked.

"Myself and Severus. His position is quite precarious right now."

Sirius looked very much like he would like to give Snape a push.

"This is not a good idea," said Snape nervously. "Surely we can manage without..."

"This is just a final precaution," Dumbledore assured him.

"What is?" asked Sirius.

"Severus is going to 'escape' to meet his contact with the Death Eaters tonight, I have arranged somewhat behind the Ministry's back to have a couple of Aurors who understand our position be present as back up. However I would like you and Hagrid to be nearby just in case. Should the situation get out of hand, Severus or the Aurors with him will send up a signal requesting assistance."

\------------------

As Sirius padded back to Draco's rooms he considered whether he should tell the boys to cancel their plans for tonight. He knew Draco would be disappointed although he suspected Harry might be a little relieved. On the other hand, or paw as it were, he had no urge to help Snape out and he considered spending the night doing so to be a complete waste of time especially as Snape would already have two Aurors backing him up.

 _'Fuck him,'_ he thought with no little amount of satisfaction. _'He's already got back up and maybe it'll do Harry good to be exposed to a little traditional religion after being brought up by Muggles. The Gods know I don't know how to help him, maybe they do. Besides the boys will be nowhere near what's going on with Snape and they'll be safe enough inside a sacred circle with me keeping an eye on the forest. It'll be fine. '_

 

 


	10. Samhain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this a very long time age when I had only the beginnings of my understanding of paganism and wicca, I have edited it somewhat since I originally wrote it. What I have included here is fictional and should not be taken to reflect the actual beliefs of Pagans (which covers a vast umbrella of traditions) or Wiccans (of whose belief it is highly derivative).

**Friday October 31st "Samhain"**

Snape paced tightly in the darkness of the trees at the end of the country lane. His contact was late and it was driving him insane. Who would it be? How much of what was going on at school would they already know? Would they just leave and pass on the news or would there be... more...  
  
Things could end very badly for him tonight. Things could end for him tonight, more to the point.  
  
He refused to die before he got to see Potter fail his class. It just wasn't fair.  
  
There was a crackle of dried leaves being stood upon behind him and he spun around. Before him huddled a short figure wrapped in a dark cloak.  
  
"Dark night?" Snape said cautiously.  
  
"It will only get darker," replied the figure, identifying itself as his contact. "For you at least, Severus. Did you really think you could just ignore orders? I'm surprised you even turned up."  
  
"Pettigrew," replied Snape. "I haven't ignored my orders, I tried but Dumbledore suspected something. I haven't been able to get near the boy since."  
  
"Really? That's very interesting, Severus, because I hear that you spend a great deal of time alone with Draco. Of course my sources could be wrong... or you could be lying... I also note that you managed to meet me here despite your supposed house arrest."  
  
"I have been able to get out of my rooms undetected, but the security around the boy is so tight now that it makes no difference. There's nothing I can do."  
  
"Nothing? Somehow I doubt that."  
  
\-------------  
  
Harry shivered in the chill air and hugged his robes to his body as he followed Draco into the woods. "This is a really bad idea," he muttered, no longer really arguing the point, just reminding the world that this was not his idea.  
  
"It's not far," Draco said over his shoulder. "I set everything up already."  
  
Sirius loped beside them in four-footed form. He had scouted the area out earlier and would keep an eye on things during the ceremony just in case. The clearing they were headed for was not so far from the castle really.  
  
Harry was not up for this at all, religion was not something he dabbled in. Least of all whatever pagan rubbish it was Draco had planned, sacrificing chickens to the ancient gods or whatever. He wasn't sure he believed him when he'd said there would be none of that sort of thing. Actually he was a little scared, in that saying Candyman five times kind of a way, where you don't really believe any of it but what if it's true anyway. Aunt Petunia had been very outspoken on the habits of strange pagan cults on the very few occasions the subject had come up. He hoped Sirius would put a stop to anything too weird.  
  
"Here we are." Draco came to a stop and with a flick of his wand set fire to a small pre-arranged pile of wood and leaves. The clearing was lit up in gold and orange.  
  
Harry looked around and was startled to see Sirius lope off into the trees. "Where's he going?"  
  
Draco looked up from the small altar he was picking things up from. "He agreed to give us some space, he's going to circle the area further out." He went around the edge of the clearing and lit small pumpkin and turnip lanterns, they were facing out so that Harry couldn't see what shapes they might be carved into.  
  
"Can't he stay here?"  
  
"I thought you wanted to do this, Harry."  
   
"You said it was important," Harry deferred. "And I didn't want to go to the feast without you."  
  
"It is important. This is the most important night of the year. Samhain, they don't have a feast tonight for no reason. Don't act like you don't know anything about this stuff."  
  
"I don't!"  
  
"Fine! Samhain is the end of the old year and the start of the new one..."  
  
"But it isn't New Year until January."  
  
"Not in the old Celtic calendar."  
  
"I thought the Malfoy's were French."  
  
"Stop being difficult and pay attention. The day starts with the night and the year starts with the winter. The second most important date is Beltane which is the beginning of summer."  
  
"Fine, I get it. But what are we going to do? I get the feeling it's not carols and gifts."  
  
"I just thought we should celebrate the start of the new year together, celebrate the fact we're both still alive to see it. Thank the Gods. Besides, I always feel safer inside a sacred circle when the veil is this thin."  
  
"I don't even know which Gods we're going to be thanking!" Harry protested, worrying that Draco was starting to sound a bit like Professor Trelawny.  
  
"Well traditionally the day marks the coming of the Dark aspect of the Lord and the Lady, the Lord of Death and the Queen of the Underworld. Some people say that Maponos, the young God, is killed on Samhain and then born again on Yule. But really the Gods can't die, they just have lots of forms. You can call them by whatever name you like really, whatever feels right. It's all a wheel and we celebrate it's turning. It's also the day of the dead who are protected by Arianrhod, so I thought we might... I mean if you want we should remember..."  
  
"My parents?"  
  
"The souls of the dead are free to cross between worlds tonight."  
  
Harry shivered. "What does that mean?"  
   
"Just that we can invite them to join us, if you like. You won't see them or hear them, but you might feel their presence. If you want to try."  
  
"I don't know, I never did anything like this before."  
  
"Don't worry," Draco took his hand and squeezed it. "It's not as complicated as it sounds. Just stand by the fire while I cast the circle."  
  
So Harry did as he was told, his back hot and his front chilled as he watched Draco walk to the edge of the clearing. He started as Draco drew a long knife out of his robe. "What's that for?"  
  
"It's just ceremonial. I promise."  
  
Harry watched it glitter in the firelight. Draco pointed it out at the ground and began to walk clockwise round the clearing with a look of concentration on his face. As he did there was a shimmer of energy that appeared surrounding them. He then placed the knife back in his robes and went back to walking the circle with a bowl of water he had taken from the alter, he sprinkled the water as he walked. He then repeated this with a stick of burning incense and then lit a candle and carried it around the circle. When he finished he laid it on the alter walked out to a tree stump on which sat an unlit yellow candle. He stood facing out to the trees and Harry nearly jumped out of his skin when he started speaking.  
  
"I call to the East, the spirits of air. Enter and be welcome. Watch us and guard us. Join us in our ritual." Then he knelt and lit the candle. "Welcome to our circle."  
  
He moved a quarter of the way around the circle and repeated this.  
  
"I call to the South, the spirits of fire. Enter and be welcome..."  
  
Harry peered off into the darkness half expecting to see whatever Draco was calling to rushing towards them through the trees.  
  
"I call to the West, the spirits of water..."  
  
And finally.  
  
"I call to the North, the spirits of earth. Enter and be welcome. Watch us and guard us. Join us in our ritual." He lit the last candle. "Welcome to our circle."  
  
Draco turned into the circle, looking at Harry. He seemed taller and the fire cast mysterious shadows across his face. He walked over to Harry and led him to the altar, there he lit two more candles and took both of Harry's hands in a comforting squeeze. Then he released them and leaned forward to kiss Harry softly on the mouth, he looked up to the sky and called out.  
  
"Lady I invoke thee and call upon thee. Queen most secret, seeker of knowledge, veiled and voluptuous. Lady of infinite space, Lady of the stars. Queen of the fireflies, Queen of the serpents. Mother of all the world." He knelt in front of Harry. "My prayer upborne upon the rising smoke. O Mighty One, descend to aid me, who without thee am forlorn. By your many names do I call thee, by your secret name I implore thee. Descend, descend, descend upon this your servant and priest."  
  
He smiled up at Harry and then stood and kissed him again, then he handed him a small sheet of parchment and said softly, "Will you read this part?"  
  
Harry looked down at it with a frown and began to read. "Lord I invoke thee and call upon thee. Return to earth again, come at my call and show thyself to men. Shepherd of goats upon the wild hill's way, keeper of knowledge. He who runs with the beast and rides on the wind. Lord of Death, Lord of the Underworld. My prayer upborne upon the rising smoke. O Wise One, descend to aid me, who without thee am forlorn. By your many names do I call thee, by your secret name I implore thee. Descend, descend, descend upon this your servant and priest."  
  
Draco reached forward and took Harry's hands again, Harry gripped his hands a little tighter than necessary as he felt the energy swirling around them. This was definitely out of his league, he thought, as Draco kissed him a final time.  
  
\-----------  
  
"I don't know who you've been talking to," Snape said as persuasively as he could. "But I tell you I can't get access to him. You'll need to find someone else, someone with less people looking over their shoulders."  
  
"Actually, we already have," Pettigrew said with cold relish. "I'm just here to bring you in."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Your time is up Severus, I know you're a double agent and with a bit of judicious torture I'm sure I can prove it."  
  
Severus moved to draw his wand but he was too late.  
  
"Stupefy."  
  
\-------------  
  
Sirius paced the forest, quite glad of the time alone in the wild on this night. He had never been one to share his beliefs and he preferred to simply spend nights like this in silent meditation outside. The only person he had ever really shared time like this with had been Remus, who had been curious enough to want to know more. James and Lily had always been resoundingly atheist and Peter had only paid lip service to the old ways. Peter Pettigrew. Thoughts of Peter never failed to send a burning rage through him at the sheer injustice of it all. He only hoped that when the universe chose to right that injustice it would allow him to be its instrument.  
  
He was loping towards his rendezvous point with Hagrid when he felt it, a strange rush of wind filled with a familiar presence. That and a tug, toward Hogsmeade. He glanced into the sky in that direction and saw it, a shower of bright red stars. The signal he had forgotten to watch for, the signal that Severus Snape needed help.  
  
For a moment he thought about not bothering, after all Snape already had backup. There were supposed to be a couple of Order affiliated Aurors stationed nearby in case of exactly this situation. He was only the backup to the backup which is why he'd decided to go ahead with Draco's plans. By the time he even got there it would probably be already over, they must be two miles away.  
  
Again the wind rushed past him, not just past him but through him. It tugged on his insides and smelled of James and Lily Potter.  
  
Damn it, he thought, and began running as fast as he could toward the shower of stars.  
  
\-------------  
  
Harry sat on the ground by the fire in a semi-dazed state, still trying to process what had just happened. Draco sat behind him, holding him close against his chest. As Draco had said, he had neither seen nor heard his parents, but he had felt them in a way he could not express. Different in every way from looking at the photo album Hagrid had given him or seeing them in the Mirror of Erised, different even than seeing them forced out of Voldemort's wand as he duelled for his life. He realised now that had only been an echo of them, not so very different from the images of them in his photo album. This had been real. Real in a way you couldn't explain but could only feel, couldn't prove but could only experience. They had been here, they had been right here with him and Draco and they had approved. They had been happy, happy to see him and happy for him. He felt like he had been blessed by the only spirits whose opinions he was interested in, his mother and father.  
  
"Harry?" Draco said softly. "You okay?"  
  
Harry turned his head into Draco and kissed him instead of answering. He felt utterly at peace in a way he hadn't felt... ever actually. At peace and very, very much in love and more than anything he wanted to express that love. He turned around and wrapped his arms tightly around Draco. "I love you," he said. "Thank you so much for asking me out here to do this. I had no idea it was even possible."  
  
Draco hugged him back, surprised by the sudden declaration. He had hoped that this might be something that would help bring them closer together again, or at least allow them to share something personal. He had no idea it would be so successful, but then he had never had any spirits he had longed to meet as much as Harry longed to meet his family. He had grandparents who had died and a great-aunt he had been particularly fond of that he had welcomed into circle in previous years, but nothing like this. He had felt the presence of Harry's parents too, like curious moths fluttering around him and through him. Cool at first and then welcoming. It meant more to him than he had expected, their approval. He had not expected to even sense their presence, having no connection to them.  
  
Harry drew back and looked into Draco's eyes. He thought about apologising for his previous behaviour but instead he just said it again. "I love you." Then he kissed him again, deeper this time as he pushed Draco back and wound their bodies together. He felt energised and he knew immediately what he wanted to do. He began to unbutton the front of Draco's robes.  
  
"Harry?"  
  
"Shhh."  
  
"Are you sure..."  
  
Harry silenced him with another kiss as he slipped his hand under Draco's robes and found he wasn't wearing anything beneath the soft cotton. He wrapped his hand around Draco's semi-erect penis and squeezed lightly.  
  
Draco moaned and tried to speak again. "It's just that we didn't..."  
  
Harry ducked his head under the robes.  
  
"Damn, Harry... it's the Great Rite... the invocation... we didn't release the..." Draco forgot what he was trying to say as Harry wrapped his mouth around his penis.  
  
Harry sucked and teased him till he was hard as a rock then began pulling off his own clothes. The moment of respite let Draco clear his head a little and he sat up to again try and tell Harry that this might not be such a great idea. Which at this point was about the last thing he actually wanted to say. "Harry," he began. "I really don't know if..."  
  
Harry straddled his legs, entirely naked but for his socks. "I want you," he gasped, pushing Draco's robes up over his head and taking hold of his cock again with sure fingers. "I want you inside me."  
  
Draco groaned. "Harry, this didn't end so well last time we tried it."  
  
"Then we'll do better this time. Fuck me, Draco."  
  
"Are you even sure you want this?" Draco tried, cursing himself for not just taking Harry at his word and doing it. "Sometimes when you call down the Lord and Lady things get... a little frisky. I wasn't sure if it was a good idea to draw down the Goddess into you and we haven't done the Great Rite yet. It was just going to be symbolic, it's not really..."  
  
"I don't care what the Lord and Lady do," Harry interrupted. "I want you to do me. We haven't done anything more than kiss in weeks, I thought you'd jump at the chance. Don't you want..."  
  
"Of course I want!" Draco knocked Harry onto his back and settled between his legs, propped over him on his arms. "I always want... I just don't want you to change your mind after we've finished and the energy's gone and you stop to think about it. Then it'll be how could you take advantage of me and you promised we wouldn't go that far again." He had to fight not to lower his body to press against Harry's.  
  
A fight that was taken out of his hands when Harry wrapped his legs around his waist and his arms around his shoulders and pulled them skin to skin and nose to nose. "If you don't fuck me right now I will die," Harry said hoarsely. "Please."  
  
Draco bucked against Harry, nothing did it for him like Harry begging. He pressed their mouths together roughly, one hand tangling into Harry's hair as he pressed him into the now warm earth beneath them.  
  
\-------------------------  
  
Sirius burst out of the woods just in time to see a cloaked figure fall to the ground revealing the man who had just killed him. Peter Pettigrew. With a snarl he leapt over the crumpled figure and toppled Wormtail to the ground before he could respond, jaws closing around his throat. With a squeak Wormtail transformed into his rat form and Sirius's jaws clicked closed on air. But Pettigrew would not get away from him, this time there were no other distractions and he would not be thwarted. He slammed a paw down on the tail of the escaping rat and picking it up in his mouth he shook it hard before knocking it against a nearby rock to make sure it was unconscious.  
  
Carrying the limp rodent in his mouth he sniffed at the body he had seen fall. He didn't recognise the scent but it was definitely dead. A little way off was another body, also dead, and against a fence lay a third. This one was breathing, it was the body of Severus Snape. Glancing around and scenting the air to check for any unwanted observers Sirius transformed back into his natural form and spat the rat out into his hand. It was definitely still alive and despite his strong desire to crush it under his heel he decided to take Peter back to Hogwarts. Chances were he had useful information. Pulling his wand out he stupified the creature on top of it's current state to make sure it wouldn't escape on the way back, then he leant down and smacked Snape sharply about the face.  
  
"Wake up. We need to get out of here."  
  
Snape stirred slightly, indicating that whatever he had been hit with was starting to wear off. Unwilling to wait Sirius pointed his wand at him and muttered, "Enervate."  
  
Just as Snape started to wake up he heard a shout from behind him and spun around.  
  
\-------------------------  
  
Draco was vaguely aware that things were out of his control, he could feel the presence around him, above him and through him. Masculine and hungry and wanting. He couldn't have stopped this now even if he had wanted to. He hadn't been sure when he'd decided to draw the moon down on Harry, it was supposed to be the High Priestess but there had only been the two of them and somehow it had felt like it was okay. He'd drawn the moon down on himself before simply by focusing on the female aspects of his psyche. He'd planned to do the symbolic Great Rite in a similar manner, as it was always done in public, and he found himself mumbling some of the words in between kisses.  
  
"...and the sacred place was the point within the centre of the circle."  
  
He realised they were in fact lying close to the centre of the circle as he kissed his way down Harry's body.  
  
"...the point within the circle, which we adore. The point of life without which we would not be..."  
  
He stroked Harry's legs as he gazed down at his erection and then he looked up and caught Harry's eyes. Harry looked confused and aroused and yet fascinated.  
  
"Altar of mysteries manifold," Draco said to him. "The sacred circle's secret point." He kissed Harry on the lips.    
  
Beneath him Harry didn't have a clue, all he knew was that the earth beneath his back felt like a part of his skin and at the same time he felt immersed in water. Cool and open and desperately in need of Draco's heat to fill him up the way his words seemed to be doing. He dug his hands and feet into the earth as he spread eagled himself under Draco, needing this intimate contact with the ground and knowing that Draco would no longer fight him.  
  
Indeed Draco's fingers were already stroking between his legs, pushing them up to give him access, slick and finding little resistance. He slid slowly inside Harry as he whispered the final words of the ritual softly.  
  
Harry just gasped.  
  
\-------------------------  
  
Sirius burst out of the trees with Snape hot on his heels and the group of Death Eaters who had apparated onto the scene just after he had woken Snape up not far behind them. Before he could really register where they were he bounced off what was apparently thin air. They had run so far they had reached the clearing in which he had left Harry and Draco and he had bounced off the sacred circle they had cast for their ritual.  
  
"Harry," he shouted as his mind registered the two naked boys entwined together in the centre of the circle. It looked like they were sleeping but they both turned around at his call. "Death Eaters! Open the circle and let us in. Hurry."  
  
Harry simply stared at him in surprise but Draco sprang to his feet and, ignoring his nudity, ran to fetch his athame from the altar. He ran up to the boundary of the circle and with a few muttered words and a gesture he opened a door in it. "How do you enter?" he asked quickly.  
  
Sirius gasped the required response, knowing that to enter without doing so would damage the safety of the circle. Draco kissed him quickly on the cheek then spun him through, repeating the ritual with Snape.  
  
Draco closed the circle again just in time, the first Death Eater appeared through the trees and promptly bounced off the barrier.  
  
"Will it hold?" asked Harry with concern.  
  
"I think so," said Draco. "We've poured enough energy into it." He raised a meaningful eyebrow at Harry who blushed.  
  
They all stared in vague concern at the cloaked figures beating at the barrier as they sorted through their thoughts. Finally Harry realised he was still naked.  
  
"Er," he said. "I'll just put some clothes on then." He knew he ought to be embarrassed, but very strangely he wasn't really.  
  
Draco turned to Snape, "What's going on?"  
  
"Voldemort decided he didn't trust me any more," Snape answered, then gave him an appraising once over. "I suppose I don't need to ask what you've been up to."  
  
"We need to contact the school," Sirius broke in. "Get a signal to them. This barrier won't hold forever." Indeed the figures outside the circle had stopped to confer as to how best to break through it. "And even if it does, we need to get out of here eventually."  
  
"Can you use the fire?" Harry asked. "Like when you talked to me before at  
school."  
  
Sirius shook his head. "That's a Floo network thing, Harry. Won't work on just any fire. Besides there's not much can get through this kind of magical barrier, not without cutting a door like Draco did earlier. And doors work in both directions."  
  
"Oh," Harry felt rather stupid for not realising that. After all why would Sirius have had to break into a house to do it if he could have just set a fire anywhere.  
  
"I think I can contact the school," said Draco suddenly.  
  
"How?" asked Sirius.  
  
"Well, I've only managed to do it a couple of times before but tonight's particularly good for it..."  
  
"Astral projection," said Sirius. "You really think you can do it?"  
  
"It's worth a try," Draco answered.  
  
"It's risky, though," Snape added. "Perhaps we should wait..."  
  
"No," Draco insisted. "It'll be fine. Just don't wake me too fast if anything goes wrong."  
  
"And if they break through?" Snape asked grimly.  
  
"Then pick up my body and run," Draco suggested with a slight smile.  
  
"In that case you better get dressed first," Snape told him.  
   
Draco shrugged into his robes and lay down in the dirt again with Harry kneeling beside him. "Are you sure about this?" Harry whispered.  
  
"Don't worry," Draco assured him. "If I can do it at all it's tonight and after the energy we just raised it should be no problem. I'll just pop over there, contact Dumbledore, and pop back. I'll be done before you know it."  
  
"You better be," Harry said fiercely, kissing him on the mouth.  
  
"I will be. Keep hold of my hand, it'll make it easier to get back quickly."  
  
"Okay."  
  
And with that Draco closed his eyes and fell completely still.  
  
Sirius and Snape stood either side of the boys keeping a close eye on the Death Eaters.  
  
\----------------  
  
Draco slowed his breathing and heart rate and then began to pull his senses inside himself, focusing his entire being on a spot centred on his solar plexus. He let his body fall away from his awareness. He was not body, he was mind, he was spirit, he was energy. He existed as a point of light, a ball of fire. Once he felt himself drift free of his shell he floated up to the barrier and, as a non corporeal form, was able to pass through it. Free from the circle he threw himself toward the warmth and light that radiated from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  
  
\---------------  
  
Inside the circle Sirius and Snape took a moment to glare at each other. "Good thing I was around to save your skin, Snape," Sirius noted.  
  
"Don't worry, Black. I won't assume it meant anything," Snape answered.  
  
"Good, because it didn't."  
  
"Then why didn't you just leave me there? It took you long enough to show up as it was."  
  
"Maybe I didn't want to see two perfectly good Aurors die in vain. Not that you'd care, I suppose. What's a few more deaths on your conscience... if you even have one."  
  
"Shut up, Black," Snape snarled. "My conscience is none of your business."  
  
"Will you two stop it," Harry snapped. "Can't you stop fighting for five minutes."  
  
They shut up and turned to him.  
  
"They're up to something," Harry said, nodding out at the Death Eaters who had formed a small circle of their own and lit a flickering blue fire which did not look natural.  
  
"They're going to try to raise enough energy to break open the circle," Snape said.  
  
"Can't they just use their wands?" Harry asked.  
  
"Different kind of magic. Wands can't do anything against a sacred circle with enough power behind it," Sirius answered. "Wands are human magic, this is older and deeper. We can call it up but we can't create it and calling it up takes time and focus and the right amount and kind of belief. I don't think they can do it though, their reasons are impure."  
  
\-------------------------  
  
Draco could see the Great Hall below him in a way that didn't really involve sight. It was no longer full but had only the tail end of the student body, the die hard few who were trying to find out just how many hazelnuts you could fit in your mouth at once or just too involved in conversation to get around to leaving.  
  
Dumbledore was still at the teachers table talking to Professor McGonagall. They looked well fed but concerned. As he drew closer he could hear their voices directly in his mind rather than with the ears he did not currently possess.  
  
"I don't expect to hear from him directly for a while," Dumbledore was saying. "The only news we'll have at first will be from the Aurors who were watching the meeting. I'm sure they'll send a message soon."  
  
"Unless it was a trap," said McGonagall grimly.  
  
"In which case we will hear from Sirius or Hagrid," said Dumbledore firmly.  
  
"This is getting too close to the school," McGonagall said sadly. "We've already had one death and countless disruptions. This place is supposed to be safe but as long as..."  
  
"Not now, Minerva. Not here. We have had this discussion before."  
   
"Yes, and you never listen. Harry is like a lightning rod for danger, having him here puts every other child in our care in peril. Severus is in danger because he hasn't killed Draco Malfoy, but Draco Malfoy's life is in peril because he tried to protect Harry..."  
  
"Draco has been in peril since he was born, his father's allegiances have nothing to do with Harry."  
  
"Harry's presence takes everything to a new level. Draco could have escaped without much harm done if he hadn't been at school with Harry Potter, if they hadn't got involved. You-Know-Who wouldn't even be back if Harry..."  
  
"Nonsense. This conversation is going nowhere, we deal the hand we have been given and Harry Potter is a part of our hand."  
  
"This is not a game!"  
  
Heads were starting to turn as Professor McGonagall's voice raised to more audible levels.  
  
"Control yourself, Minerva. You will worry the students."  
  
"They should be worried. Right now Death Eaters are meeting at the very outskirts of the school, this is not the place..."  
  
Draco suddenly realised he was supposed to be getting help, he had to pay more attention. It was too easy to just drift and forget when you were disembodied like this and that was dangerous. He focused his thoughts on the old man before him and thought at him as loudly as he could. _'Professor Dumbledore!'_  
  
\----------  
  
Watching the men outside the circle direct the spirits they had conjured up to attack their circle, Sirius felt a sudden twitch in his pocket. "What the hell?" he muttered, then suddenly remembered. How could he have forgotten? In his pocket was the unconscious rat shaped body of Peter Pettigrew. Which was all very well and good, but awake he suddenly became an unwelcomed and unwanted intruder in the sacred circle.  
  
He spun to Snape and Harry with a look of fear on his face. "Get ready to carry the boy," he told Snape. "We may have to run soon."  
  
"What?" said Harry, clutching Draco's hand a little tighter. "I thought they weren't having much luck."  
   
"Things change," answered Sirius as he pulled Wormtail out of his pocket and raised his wand to stun him again. Before he could two things happened at once. Wormtail bit him hard enough to make him fumble his wand and there was a rough crackle of energy as the barrier split open and collapsed around them.  
  
"Run!" Sirius bellowed, trying to keep hold of the squirming rat.  
  
Snape swooped down on the boys and picked up Draco's limp body carefully but quickly, ducking as a curse passed over their heads. "Help your godfather, Potter," he spat as Harry's hand holding onto Draco slowed him down. "I've got Draco now."

 


	11. Stella Tellit

**Friday October 31st "Samhain"**

  
Before he could think better of it Harry had let go of Draco's hand and Snape sped off toward the trees with him, hunched over to make a smaller target.  
  
Harry started to follow but glanced back towards his godfather and realised he wasn't following them, he had dived after the escaping form of Wormtail. Harry hesitated, his wand half raised to fight. When he saw someone aiming at him his hesitation evaporated and he shouted, "Expelliarmus!" Before they could curse him their wand flew up in the air and was lost in the dark undergrowth.  
  
Of the five Death Eaters two had run past him in pursuit of Snape and Draco and one had leapt on Sirius and they were fighting hand to hand. The other two closed on Harry, he dived to the side as the one still brandishing a wand threw a curse he didn't recognise at him. He really wished he'd got the hang of that hex deflection they'd been learning in Defence Against the Dark Arts.  
  
\------------------------  
  
Draco travelled back by focusing on Harry but when he arrived he found his body nowhere to be seen and Harry and Sirius in the middle of a pitched battle with three Death Eaters.  
  
He cast around for his body and found it being carried by Professor Snape at high speed back towards Hogwarts. This was not going to be a nice easy awakening, he thought idly. It was hard to get worked up about anything when bodiless, being completely detached from the hormones and neuro-chemicals that cause such feelings as fear or excitement. He would have to go in fast, he supposed. For a moment he considered not bothering, it didn't look much fun down there. He could just stay here, float for a while, it was so easy... he grabbed hold of his thoughts with what focus he had and tried to remember what it was to be urgent and alive and to care about what was happening. He had to get back in his body now.  
  
He felt for his body, trying to remember what it felt like to have heat and breath and blood pumping through your veins. Fingers and toes and eyes and ears. With a rush he thumped into the jerking mass of flesh that grasped at his spirit and sucked him into it's sticky hold.  
  
His body spasmed at the shock his spirit felt and he tumbled to the ground as Snape lost his hold on him and then promptly tripped over him. Draco rolled onto his front and threw up with the sheer revulsion of being physical and having just been dropped onto the cold hard ground and then kicked quite hard as Snape fell over him. This was why you were supposed to re-enter your body slowly and calmly. Everything hurt.  
  
Snape pulled himself to his knees and turned around. "Draco?" he gasped. "Are you all right?"  
  
Draco groaned and attempted to lever himself up. "What's going on?" he managed.  
  
"The circle fell," Snape told him. "And I think I just broke my ankle."  
  
"What?" said Draco, pulling himself together and wiping his mouth on his sleeve.  
  
"We brought Pettigrew into the circle with us unconscious..."  
  
"He wasn't accepted in and when he woke up he disrupted the circle," Draco realised. "But I meant your ankle, are you sure it's broken?"  
  
Snape hauled his leg into place and tried to put weight on it unsuccessfully. "Well, probably not broken," he admitted. "But it's not going to hold my weight."  
  
"Dumbledore is on his way with help," Draco told him.  
  
"Well that's just fine then," said Snape sarcastically, raising his wand as two Death Eaters broke out of the undergrowth. "Impedimenta!"  
  
Draco felt for his wand but he didn't seem to have it with him, it must have been left behind in the circle.  
  
"Get up and run, Draco," Snape said roughly. "Incendio!"  
  
Draco saw the reflection of the flames light on the trees opposite him before he heard the scream behind him. He got his feet under him and spun around as the Death Eater who hadn't been hit by the Impedimenta curse put out the fire engulfing him. Draco fell back behind Snape, unable to protect himself without his wand.  
  
"Go," said Snape. "Find Dumbledore!"  
  
"But..."  
  
"We need help!"  
  
Draco ran back to find the approaching rescue party and show them exactly where they were.  
  
\-------------------  
  
Harry dodged across the clearing, throwing wildly aimed curses behind him. In the corner of his eye he could see that Sirius had his fist clutched around a wriggling rat as he tried to pin the Death Eater he was fighting to the ground. They both seemed to have lost their wands. Harry managed to hit the disarmed wizard chasing him with the full body bind and then ran around behind the fire. That was one down unless one of the others released him, but he couldn't get a good aim on the other one as every time he tried he ended up having to dodge another curse.  
  
There seemed to be even more commotion over where Sirius was but the fire was obstructing his view. Then a figure rose above the flames and Harry realised Wormtail had resumed his human form. He had got a hold of Draco's knife and with that and his silver hand he made a formidable enemy despite his physical weakness. He caught a flash of movement on his other side and realised his distraction just in time to dive out of the way of another curse. He pointed his own wand and shouted, "Serpensortia!"  
  
A glittering, green snake appeared and moved towards the other wizard. "Attack," Harry urged it in Parseltongue, hoping it would divide the wizard's attention. Indeed the other man raised his wand toward the serpent rather than Harry and as he was trying to kill it Harry moved into range and used the full body bind again. He was glad you didn't get marks for originality in a real fight.  
  
He spun around to see what Wormtail was doing just in time to be knocked off his feet by Sirius as the Killing Curse sped over both their heads and hit a tree behind them. Next spring it would put forth no new buds.  
  
Sirius rolled them both right into the cover of the trees, swearing under his breath. "My wand is on the ground where I was fighting," he whispered to Harry. "Can you summon it?"  
  
Harry poked his head quickly around the tree to try and locate it, Wormtail was freeing the Death Eaters he had bound and that gave him time to have a good look. "Accio wand," he muttered.  
  
\------------------------  
  
Draco ran ahead of the teachers, leading them back to where he had left Snape, very conscious of the fact that he was most likely running toward a pair of armed Death Eaters without a wand or even a pair of shoes to his name. The cold was making every little twig underfoot feel like a shard of glass and he wished he had thought to put his shoes back on before he had gone wandering about without his body. He also wished he was wearing his underwear, running without it was less than comfortable.  
  
Although it had felt like it had taken him forever to find the teachers it had in fact only been a few minutes, since he and Snape had made it a good way back to the castle before they had fallen. When they got there, guided by the glow of burning undergrowth at the end, Snape was holding the two Death Eaters off with Hagrid and it was a matter of seconds before Dumbledore and Professor Sinistra had incapacitated them. Madame Pomfrey hurried forward to check on Snape.  
  
"Why have to keep going," Draco panted. "We have to help Harry."  
  
"We sent people ahead on brooms to find them," Dumbledore reassured them. "They should have found them easily enough if the bonfire you lit was still burning. I will go ahead and make sure, you stay here and let Madame Pomfrey attend to you before you collapse."  
  
Draco started to protest but was stopped from following Dumbledore by Hagrid's very large hand on his arm, forcing him to sit down on the cold ground.  
  
\------------------------  
  
Sitting in Dumbledore's office Harry found he couldn't really remember how they had won or who had captured Wormtail. It was all a blur. Just as it looked like they were going to lose him the clearing had erupted with people and when the smoke from a dozen curses and one slightly battered bonfire had cleared there were three unconscious Death Eaters and Wormtail tied up in the middle.  
  
Their rescue party had consisted of Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, and Madame Hooch followed by Professor Dumbledore. As they had walked back they had met up with Hagrid, Professor Snape,  Madame Pomfrey and Professor Sinistra guarding two other Death Eaters and a very pale faced Draco. Then the solemn parade had made it's way back to the school without speaking.  
  
Harry had been, and was still, feeling more than a little shell shocked, and not so much from the fight but from what had happened before it. With the danger gone he now had time to actually process what had occurred inside the circle. Sirius had carried Draco back, his reaction to the danger ending and seeing Harry safe had been to pass out from the stress of his earlier astral projection and he had since slipped from unconsciousness into natural sleep. He was in the hospital wing now and Harry wished he were there with him as he half listened to the adults discussing what had happened. Sirius was getting the riot act read to him by Professor McGonagall for letting Harry and Draco out in the middle of the night, but he looked far too pleased at the capture of Wormtail to really mind.  
  
Wormtail and the other Death Eaters were under lock and key in the dungeons with Professor Snape, ankle all fixed, and Hagrid keeping a careful eye on them. Right now Harry didn't really care what happened to any of them. He was tired and bored of this meeting and he wanted to see Draco.  
  
He wasn't really sure what he wanted to say to Draco though, or if he just wanted to crawl into bed with him and fall asleep. There was a part of him that wanted to say, in a loud and slightly indignant voice, "What the fuck was all that?" It wasn't a very big part of him though. There was a slowly growing embarrassment at what Snape and Sirius might have seen when they burst into the clearing and at the fact that he hadn't even thought to put his robes back on when they had appeared. It was like he was only slowly coming back into himself, the person he had been in the circle had been someone else. Someone who really didn't care what other people thought, someone who wasn't shy or embarrassed or uncomfortable with anything. Someone powerful, who could love unconditionally. He could still remember feeling like that, but he could also sense it fading, the way a dream fades. He couldn't keep hold of it. He wondered if Draco's protests would hold true, that in the cold light of tomorrow morning he might regret what had happened. Right now he couldn't tell. He didn't know how much was still to fade and what would be left when it was gone.  
  
He broke out of his thoughts when he heard his name.  
  
"He's falling asleep in the chair," continued Sirius. "Let me take him to his bed and then we can argue all night about things if you want."  
   
"Harry?" said Dumbledore. "Would you prefer to go to bed now?"  
  
"Yes, if that's all right," Harry answered quickly.  
  
"Very well, Sirius, show Harry back to his dormitory and I will see you shortly," Dumbledore dismissed them.  
  
\------------------------  
  
Once they were out of the room Harry stopped them from heading towards his dormitory. "Can we go to the hospital wing instead?"  
  
Sirius hesitated. "To see Draco? I suppose so. I thought you were tired."  
  
"I am. I thought I might stay there tonight, if Draco is. Is it safe for him to stay in the hospital wing?"  
  
"I'm sure he's safe there..." Sirius didn't sound too convincing. "Maybe I should stay there with the two of you, or maybe we should take Draco back to his room... if Madame Pomfrey will let us, that is."  
  
The hospital wing wasn't far from the Headmaster's office and it didn't take long to get there. Madame Pomfrey was sitting, reading, not far from Draco's bed and she looked up as they entered. Sirius went over to speak to her and Harry went over to the only occupied bed in the room. Draco was still asleep although he looked a little restless. The sheets were getting tangled and as Harry approached him he shifted and murmured something.  
  
Harry hovered uncertainly by the bed. As far as he knew Madame Pomfrey didn't know he and Draco were anything more than friends and he was coming back to himself enough to want it to stay that way. He looked back at the two adults to see what they were doing, they weren't paying him much attention so he leaned forward and brushed a light kiss over Draco's forehead before he went over to see if Sirius had talked Madame Pomfrey round.  
  
It seemed he had, Madame Pomfrey seemed reasonably content to let them move Draco. "I was worried about having him here," she confided in them. "With all these Death Eaters around, the hospital wing just seems too public and I don't think it will matter too much if you wake him. He hasn't been sleeping well anyway, tossing and turning. I swear once I heard him call out for you." She fixed Harry with a puzzled look.  
  
"Er," he said. "Probably doesn't realise the danger's past. Maybe he was dreaming about the fight." It might have been more plausible if he hadn't blushed quite so much. "Can I wake him up then?"  
  
"Go ahead, but have him go straight to bed when he gets to his room. He needs to rest, that little trick of his took a lot out of him." This was directed at Sirius.  
  
Harry shook Draco lightly by the shoulder. "Draco, wake up."  
  
Draco opened his eyes quickly but looked confused and a little disorientated. "Harry?" he murmured. "Did we win yet?"  
  
"We won. You're in the hospital wing," Harry told him. "It's time to go back to your room."  
  
"Where's Snape?"  
  
"Snape's fine, he's watching the prisoners. Can you stand up?"  
  
"Of course I can," Draco insisted, swinging his legs out from under the blankets. "What am I wearing?"  
  
At some point Madame Pomfrey had put him into a pair of hospital issue, over starched, blue cotton pyjamas. Harry felt a surge of irrational jealousy at the thought of anyone else undressing Draco, even if they were the school nurse. "You can change when you get back to your room," he told him, throwing what he hoped looked like a friendly and companionably steadying arm around him as he wobbled upright. "Okay?"  
  
"I can't walk around the school in a pair of pyjamas," Draco protested. "What if someone sees me?"  
  
Madame Pomfrey shook her head. "I sent your clothes off to be cleaned. They were very muddy."  
  
"It's late," said Sirius. "Everyone is in their dormitories, no-one will see you. Now let's get going."  
  
It wasn't until they were half way back to Draco's room that Harry realised Sirius was walking around the school in his human form. "Sirius!" he said, stopping suddenly. "We caught Wormtail!"  
  
Sirius stopped too. "I was there, Harry. I remember."  
   
"I mean you don't have to hide any more. You'll be pardoned and I can go live with you in the summer like we were going to do." Harry couldn't hide his excitement.  
  
Sirius smiled. "I can't make any promises tonight, but yes, perhaps we can."  
  
Harry stood in the middle of the corridor with Draco leaning on his shoulder and beamed like an idiot. Draco could feel the smile radiating off him and wished for a moment that he could stand in front of it and feel the full heat, but he was too tired to stand up on his own. In fact if Harry didn't get moving again soon he or Sirius were going to have to carry him back to his room. The new skin he had just grown over the cuts on his feet was aching from the cold stone floor and little sparkly stars were starting to float in front of his eyes again.  
  
Harry felt Draco's weight against him increase just as Sirius noticed what colour he had drain out of his face. Before Sirius could move to help him Harry was lowering Draco to the floor as quickly as he could without dropping him, he wasn't strong enough to hold the taller boy's full weight.  
  
"Is he okay?" Harry asked in a panic, pillowing Draco's head in his lap and bending over him.  
  
"I'm sure he's fine, Pomfrey wouldn't have let him out of her sight if there was anything really wrong with him. He's just worn out." Sirius lifted Draco easily out of Harry's grasp and they walked briskly down the corridors to Draco's room.  
  
Draco came to again just before they got there but let Sirius carry him into the room and lie him down on the bed before he started complaining. "I'm not sleeping in these awful pyjamas," he told Harry. "They itch."  
  
"I'll take it from here," Harry told Sirius. "Thanks for carrying him."  
  
"Not a problem... right, I'll just... leave then shall I."  
  
"Goodnight, Sirius."  
  
"Goodnight." Sirius shut the door behind him and stood there uncertainly. He still couldn't quite get his feelings straight about what was between Harry and Draco. The fact was he didn't like it. Not because Draco was a boy but because for thirteen years he had thought of Harry as a baby and he couldn't quite shake that image of him. He felt he ought to be putting a stop to things of that nature, but he knew it was really far too late for that. Harry was fifteen, nearly an adult now, not a child any more. He had missed out on Harry the child and he thought maybe Harry had missed out on it too if what he knew of the Dursleys was anything to go by. And now he was in what had the air of quite a serious relationship when as far as Sirius knew he hadn't even dated before. He supposed it was hard to do anything casually when you were Harry Potter.  
  
Sirius had never had a serious relationship, not even before he had been locked up in Azkaban. He had enjoyed flirtations, one night stands, affairs, friends with benefits... but never an actual relationship. One whiff of complications and he'd give his standard 'not ready to settle down' speech and head out to the pub with James or Remus to find someone new or just to get drunk and run around the streets laughing like madmen and committing minor acts of petty vandalism. Not that he didn't have serious things in his life, but none that involved sex or romance.  
  
Yet again he felt that he was in over his head with this godfather stuff. How was he supposed to bring up a teenage boy when he wasn't even sure he was a grown up himself? Mind you he could hardly do worse than the Muggles Harry had lived with for most of his life.  
  
\----------------  
  
Draco fell asleep again before Harry got back from the dresser with new pyjamas for him, so he dumped them on a chair instead and pulled the duvet over Draco before going to get ready for bed himself. Any discussion would have to wait until tomorrow. As he snuggled into Draco's warm body he found he felt pretty good about the evenings events. He had spent time with his parents and they had seemed happy about him and Draco, they had captured Wormtail, and even if it hadn't been planned, the sex had been really good. Really, really good.  
  
Harry fell asleep with a smile on his face.  
  
  
\------------------------  
**Saturday November 1st**  
  
Harry woke up from a dream in which he had been eating breakfast in the Great Hall. It had seemed normal but then someone had tapped him on the shoulder and when he looked behind him there was Draco, completely naked. That was when he had realised that he was naked too and suddenly everyone in the Hall was staring at them and pointing and whispering. He had turned to Hermione for help and she had said, "Well really, Harry. You should have thought about this before you took your clothes off." That was when he had woken up.  
  
He rolled away from Draco's sleeping body and lay there for a moment with the humiliation still burning through him as he got his bearings. 'Not in the Great Hall,' he thought. _'Good.'_ Then, ' _Oh, no. Snape and Sirius! And I just stood there! Naked! In front of the Death Eaters!'_ All new humiliation hammered it's way through him. Snape had seen him naked!  
  
He sat up and pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around them. He felt exposed. He didn't know if he could look Snape in the eye ever again. At least last time they'd just been sleeping and they'd had their pyjamas on and everything. Not lying in the dirt still naked and touching and sweaty.  
  
Next to him Draco murmured in his sleep and rolled over towards Harry, burying his face against Harry's hip.  
  
Harry looked down at him as he remembered Draco trying to talk him out of taking his clothes off, he remembered begging Draco to fuck him and Draco finally giving in to his demands. "So much for my rules," he muttered. "That wasn't supposed to happen." But at the same time his hand strayed down to play with Draco's hair and that warm, easy glow was still in there somewhere. It hadn't left completely. What they had done last night had felt right, it had felt... sacred, and that sounded really weird and stupid but it had. But it had been private and he really wished they hadn't been interrupted. What was between him and Draco was for them and no-one else. When it was just them it was okay, it was right even. Other people made it wrong and weird and twisted and complicated. They looked at them and made judgements they had no right to make, saw things that weren't there, believed things that weren't true. Because they couldn't see this like he could see it, because they weren't inside it. So they had to not see it at all, they had to be more careful. No-one else could find out about them. "No-one else," he said firmly, out loud.  
  
Beside him Draco stirred again and this time he opened his eyes and looked up at Harry. "Morning," he said, stretching like a cat in what was either unconscious grace or planned tease. Either way it was incredibly sexy.  
  
Harry uncurled from his tight ball and ran a foot under the covers to touch Draco's thigh. "Did I wake you?"  
  
"Don't know." Draco put his hand up the back of Harry's pyjamas and stroked the curve of his spine with one finger. "I don't mind. What time is it?"  
  
"No idea." Harry ran the pad of his foot up the inside of Draco's thigh and watched his head drop back in reaction. He leaned over and licked the exposed throat.  
  
"Does this mean that you're still all right about what happened last night?" Draco asked.  
  
"Depends," answered Harry, pulling back to look at Draco while his hand traced a path from his shoulder to his hip. "If you mean the sex... yes, I guess so. It wasn't what I meant to happen but..."  
  
"But what?"  
  
"It was what I wanted to happen, I was just afraid of it."  
  
"And now you're not?"  
  
"Now... now I realise it's not this I'm afraid of, it's what's out there." He gestured at the door. "There's nothing wrong in here. I want you and you want me and I can deal with that. I was afraid that it was wrong but it's not, is it?"  
  
"No, I don't think so anyway."  
  
"Exactly, I don't think so and you don't and my parents didn't either and neither does Hermione or Ron or Sirius really, or even Snape." Harry made a face. "I can never speak to him again you realise."  
  
"Did I miss something between you two?"  
  
"He saw us naked, Draco! We were lying on the ground, naked and... you know..."  
  
Draco smiled. "Yeah, I know," he said with a wicked look, pulling Harry down against him and wrapping a leg around his thighs. "I'm sure he's even more horrified at what he saw than you are, he'll probably avoid you for weeks." He tugged Harry's head down into a long kiss.  
  
\------------------------  
   
Hermione and Ron sat at a corner table in The Three Broomsticks fairly quietly. Harry had decided not to join them in Hogsmeade after all, despite the fact he had promised the three of them would spend time together this weekend. He'd told them that there had been a fight last night, explaining why so many teachers had suddenly gone running out of the Great Hall. He'd also told them about Wormtail finally being captured and said that he just wanted a quiet day alone with Draco after all the excitement. Ron had been upset at missing it all and had been all for going down to the dungeons to see if they wouldn't let him punch Wormtail in the face for old times sake, but Hermione had pointed out that they weren't even supposed to know what had happened and they certainly weren't going to let any students see the prisoners. They had managed to extract a promise from Harry to eat dinner with them and then gone on to Hogsmeade without him.  
  
Hermione graciously allowed Ron to put his arm around her waist and he was whispering something in her ear that was making her blush when they were interrupted.  
  
"Ah, young love," said a high pitched voice.  
  
They looked up into the face of a woman of indeterminate late-middle-age dressed in overly floral robes and a strange knitted hat.  
  
"Sorry to disturb, but aren't you just the sweetest couple. Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger, am I right?"  
  
"Um, yes," said Ron.  
  
"Friend of your mother, dear," she said. "Haven't seen you since you were so high. Can't mistake that red hair though. You never miss a Weasley even if they are sitting in the corner."  
  
"Oh... hi," Ron said uncertainly.  
  
"I've heard all about your friends at school from your mother of course. She didn't tell me you two were sweethearts though. When did that happen?"  
  
Ron looked at Hermione before answering, "Not long ago, really. Haven't told Mum about it yet."  
  
"What was your name?" Hermione asked, there was a suspicious sharpness to her voice.  
   
"You can call me Stella, dear. That'll be just fine. And where's little Harry Potter, then. I thought you three were inseparable. I heard all about what happened, must have been very upsetting."  
  
Hermione narrowed her eyes. "I don't know what you mean," she answered.  
  
"Why that terrible incident with Lucius Malfoy," the woman answered. "You must tell me all about it."  
  
"I thought you said you'd already heard about it," replied Hermione.  
  
"Well, of course dear. Nothing like hearing something direct from the source though, don't you think?"  
  
Hermione suddenly shot to her feet. "I'm terribly sorry," she said, pulling Ron up next to her. "I just remembered some homework we forgot to do. Due in tomorrow morning. We really have to go."  
  
She pulled Ron out of the room at high speed, passing Seamus and Dean who were on their way in.  
  
"What was that all about?" Ron spluttered when he got her to slow down.  
  
"That was no friend of your mother's," Hermione answered. "I wasn't sure at first, there was just something about her. Then her name sounded familiar too but it wasn't till she mentioned sources that I realised who it was."  
  
"Who?"  
  
"That was Stella Tellit, the Daily Prophet's new gossip columnist. There's a photo of her on the page she writes."  
  
"What? You're kidding."  
  
"Nope, I just wonder why they sent her. I would've thought Lucius Malfoy kidnapping us would be considered more than gossip. But then they've already covered that in the paper, she must be following up a different angle. Well, she won't get anything out of us."  
  
"Damn straight," said Ron firmly.  
  
Back in the pub Dean and Seamus had taken their drinks to the same corner table Ron and Hermione had just vacated.  
  
"I just wish he wasn't with Malfoy, I mean I can deal with the gay thing," complained Seamus rather more loudly than necessary. "Mostly anyway, it is kind of weird sleeping in the same room as him and stuff though. Don't you think?"  
  
"I dunno," replied Dean. "It's just Harry, you know. I don't really think about it much. As to Malfoy... "  
  
"It's gross," Seamus broke in. "That twitchy little ferret. I just don't see how Harry can go from hating him as much as the rest of us to shagging him."  
  
"Keep it down, Seamus," Dean cautioned. "Hermione'll kill us if someone hears you. People do weird things when they fancy someone, maybe all that fighting they did was because they wanted to jump each other. Look at Ron and Hermione, they're always getting into arguments but we all knew they'd end up getting together."  
  
"Malfoy's bad news," Seamus insisted. "He's a slimy little shit and he may be playing nice right now but it won't last. I'll bet you anything he'll be back to his old self before too long, acting like he's better than everyone else cause he's a pureblood and probably boasting about having bagged Harry. It's just the sort of thing he'd do, fuck someone just cause they're famous. Maybe he thinks it'll rub off on him."  
  
"Give it a break," Dean complained. "There's nothing you can do about it anyway. It's Harry's choice, right or wrong."  
  
At the table next to them an old woman with a gleam in her eye and a notebook in her hand stood up and hurried out of the pub.  
  
\----------------------  
  
That evening they had what was beginning to feel a little like a family meal. Sirius, Harry, Draco, Ron and Hermione all round the little table in Draco's room. Sirius and Harry told the non-adult rated version of what had happened last night to Ron and Hermione with brief interjections from Draco. Then Sirius broke the really good news. Dumbledore had brought in official witnesses and they had confirmed that Peter Pettigrew was alive and all six prisoners had been taken into custody for questioning and eventual trial. Wormtail would be tried for the murder of the two Aurors who had died last night as well as the massacre that Sirius had been blamed for and the others for attempted kidnap, trespass and aggravated magical assault including the endangering of two minors.  
  
Snape would testify against all of them, his undercover agent status was blown anyway, and so would Dumbledore and the other teachers involved. Sirius had been granted immunity by the Ministry until the trial was over as long as he stayed in Dumbledore's custody.  
  
The truth about Voldemort's return would surely be undeniable by the time Wormtail's trial was over and Sirius would be completely cleared. He would still have to be careful until then, they had wanted to throw him back in Azkaban until after the trials but Dumbledore had talked them into leaving him here, but it looked like everything was going to work out.  
  
It was Draco who put a damper on the celebratory atmosphere. "Of course there'll be mass panic when people actually start believing Voldemort is back and once everyone knows he won't have to hide any more... who knows what'll happen then."  
  
Sirius lost his smile. "You're right. If he thinks he's strong enough he might attack openly, he'd have nothing to lose."  
  
"He's strong," said Draco darkly. "It's like everyone was just waiting for him to come back to jump back in with him. He'll want to move before the Ministry does."  
  
"He might not," said Hermione. "Maybe he'll wait, let people's fear of him do his work."  
  
Harry scowled. "Why does he always have to spoil everything?" he complained petulantly. "Maybe he won't attack, maybe nothing will happen for years."  
  
"And maybe he'll decide he loves muggles after all and he'll send you a 'sorry for trying to kill you' card and we'll all live happily ever after," Draco replied impatiently. "My bet is on all out war by sometime next year and more than a little bloodshed before Christmas."  
  
"There's no need to be so negative," Hermione argued. "Muggles aren't completely helpless you know. I bet even if the whole wizarding world just stuck their heads in the sand we could still beat him." She looked very much like she was trying to convince herself as well as them.  
  
Ron squeezed her hand. "It'll work out all right in the end, it always does. After all, Harry's beaten him before."  
  
Harry's face turned stony and Sirius said quickly. "Not that he'll need to again, he's done plenty already. Better for you all to just get on with worrying about your exams and things."  
  
With effort he managed to get Hermione and Draco talking about school, but Harry stayed fairly quiet for the rest of the meal. He thought about Voldemort. About the next time he would come face to face with him, because there always seemed to be a next time and every time they both walked away having both lost and won. Harry had defeated him but his parents had been killed, Voldemort had lost his body but kept his life. Harry had escaped but Cedric had died. Harry had escaped but Draco had sacrificed his family. Harry always won but everyone around him kept on losing. Who was next? He looked around the table. Who would be the next person to lose something just so that he could keep on winning? And when?  
  
His scar ached faintly so that he wasn't sure if it were his imagination or not and he felt for his wand just to be sure it was there.  
  
He didn't know what was going to happen next and when it came he didn't want to face it.

 


	12. The Daily Prophet

**Monday 3rd November**

When Hermione opened her morning paper she froze in place and just stared at it in horror and shock. Slowly her mouth formed into an o and her eyes started to glisten as she processed the meaning of what she saw.

Around her she could hear exclamations from the other students who got the Daily Prophet and the rustle of newspaper being passed from hand to hand.

"What's up?" Ron asked, he turned and noticed her shell-shocked expression. "Mione?"

"It's.... oh, God, Ron. What are we going to do?"

"About what? What's in the paper? Is it that Stella woman we met? What did she write?"

Hermione passed over the page in question to Ron. 'Who Knew by Stella Tellit'. The title of today's column was, 'Harry Potter - Sleeping With the Enemy?'

\--

  **Exclusive! Harry Potter - Sleeping With the Enemy?**

 

'Lucius Malfoy's failed plot to kill Harry Potter and his subsequent downfall and escape has been news about town the last few weeks, but it appears there is more than we thought to this story. Stella Tellit can exclusively reveal that Harry Potter, last year reportedly dating muggle born girl Hermione Granger, is now dating fellow student Draco Malfoy, the only son of Lucius Malfoy. Clearly Hogwart's School for Witchcraft and Wizardry is teaching our children more than spellwork these days. An anonymous source close to Potter told our reporter, "It's kind of weird sleeping in the same room as him and stuff, it's gross, I wish he wasn't with Malfoy. I just don't see how Harry can go from hating him as much as the rest of us to shagging him."

A good question, what did lead Harry Potter to such lewd exploits with the son of a man who wants him dead? Did ex-girlfriend Miss Granger's flighty ways lead Mr. Potter to turn to the opposite sex for comfort? It was widely reported that Miss Granger was two timing Mr. Potter with world renowned Seeker Victor Krum and it now appears she is working her

|   | 

way through Mr. Potter's other acquaintances. Miss Granger is currently dating Ronald Weasley, son of Ministry official Arthur Weasley. When asked, other girls in her year confirmed that, "She gets around, I think she's trying to make up for the fact that she's not very pretty by putting out to anyone who'll take her. I've seen her with Draco Malfoy a lot too."

Draco Malfoy is hardly popular at Hogwarts and rumours suggest Mr. Potter may not have learned his lesson the first time around. Our source told us, "It's just the sort of thing Malfoy would do, fuck someone just cause they're famous. Maybe he thinks it'll rub off on him." The question we have to ask is this, was Harry Potter saved by his teen lover or did Draco Malfoy lead Mr. Potter into his father's trap and then leave his father to take the blame when things went wrong? Draco Malfoy may be only fifteen, both boys are well below the age of consent for same sex relations, but that doesn't mean he can't be dangerous. After all how did this unpopular boy who was previously known as Mr. Potter's rival tempt

|   | 

him into this illicit relationship? Was it the fragile state he was left in after Miss Granger's betrayal and his subsequent mental problems during the TriWizard Tournament or should we suspect even darker reasons. The Malfoy's are well known for their studies of the darker arts and his school records show that Draco Malfoy, member of Slytherin house, is the top of his year in potions. The only other student with such abilities in his year is none other than the ambitious Miss Granger.

Is Harry Potter acting under his own volition or have the combined magical talents of Miss Granger and Mr Malfoy brought him under their depraved spell? Harry Potter is clearly a young boy in need of guidance, something he is not getting from his teachers who are letting this go on under their very noses. Hogwarts has become a hot bed of loose morality and teenage sex under the wayward hand of Albus Dumbledore. Something must be done to put these poor children back on the straight and narrow and get Harry Potter the help he needs before it is too late.'  
  
---|---|---|---|---  
  
  
By the time he had read to the end of the article Ron had pretty much the same expression on his face as Hermione although he looked a lot less as if he might burst into tears.  
  
"Shit," he said softly. "Shit, shit, shit."  
  
"Unknown source?" said Hermione. "It had to be someone in your dorm, they talk about sharing a room with Harry."  
  
"Does it even matter who it was?" said Ron. "Harry's going to... I don't know what he's going to do. I don't want to know what he's going to do. Shit!"  
  
"I can't believe they're still going on about Victor..." Hermione made a face as if she was trying not to cry, which was exactly what she was doing. She knew she should be worrying about Harry, she was a big girl and she could take whatever some ignorant reporter could dish out but still... it hurt. It hurt and she hated it, hated being spoken about like that. Hated knowing that people would believe it just because it was in the newspaper. She dug her nails into her thigh hard to try and get her control back. "I bet it was that bitch Pansy Parkinson that was quoted," she hissed.  
  
Ron looked shocked at her language, Hermione never swore. "Are you okay? No-one's going to believe all that..."  
  
"Won't they?" she threw back. "Your mother believed it all last time even though she knew me. Plenty of people will believe it. I'm just glad my parents don't read this, or any of their friends."  
  
Ron frowned. "Hermione..." he said slowly. "Doesn't Malfoy get the Daily Prophet?"  
  
Hermione went pale as a sheet. "Oh no, he does! I've seen it in his room. If Harry sees it..."  
  
"Malfoy knows better than that though, he'll hide it won't he?"  
  
Hermione sighed, defeated. "It doesn't really matter. Harry will hear about it eventually, probably the first time he bumps into a Slytherin in the hallway."  
  
\--------  
  
Draco was sitting on the newspaper. Not his most cunning plan ever but he'd not long woken up and had barely a split second to figure out where to put it before Harry came out of the bathroom. Thank the Gods he'd turned to the gossip page before Harry had reappeared, if Harry had seen his face as he read that article he'd never have believed it wasn't important.  
  
Right now he was trying to force scrambled eggs down a tightly closed throat while maintaining a calm and nonchalant expression on his face. Harry was giving him a funny look, bemused tailing into worried and suspicious. His nonchalant look obviously needed work.  
  
Just then there was a knock at the door, Draco almost got up to answer it just to get out of Harry's eye-line but then he remembered he was sitting on the paper. "Get the door will you," he told Harry.  
  
Harry frowned at him but went to answer it anyway. Draco wondered wildly if he could make it to the window, throw the paper out and get back to the table before Harry made it to the door.  
  
At the door were Weasley and Granger looking as panicked as he felt.  
  
"Hi," said Harry. "I didn't know you were having breakfast with us this morning."  
  
"Um..." said Weasley.  
  
"Just felt like it," said Hermione quickly. She glanced at Draco with a questioning look, she had obviously seen the article. "Do you mind?"  
  
"Course not. Are you okay? You look kind of... upset."  
  
"I'm fine..." she started but then she stopped and said. "Oh, bother it. There's no point in pretending really is there?"  
  
She was looking at Draco as she said that and he realised she could tell he had read the article too and he supposed she was right. "Not really," he said glumly.  
  
"Do you have it?" she asked.  
  
"Have what?" asked Harry, completely perplexed. "What are you two talking about?"  
  
"This," said Draco, pulling the paper out from underneath him. "I was hiding it but Hermione's right, there's no point. You'll see it eventually and I suppose you really ought to read it before you go out there. Or maybe I could just give you the gist of it...."  
  
"Give me the paper," Harry demanded.  
  
"Really, I could just summarise..."  
  
Harry stalked over and snatched the paper out of Draco's hand. He looked at the front page first but didn't see anything relevant. "What page?"  
   
"The gossip page," Hermione answered. "It's just on the gossip page, not real news."  
  
"Where is it?"  
  
"Page 28," she said finally.  
  
Everyone stood silently as Harry found the page in question and turned the expected shade of white followed by a warning shade of red which faded away slowly to pale greenish-grey.  
  
He took a very long time to read the whole article and when he was done he continued to stare blankly at the page.  
  
"Harry?" said Draco after too long had passed.  
  
There was no reply.  
  
Draco stood up and went over to him, pulling the paper out of his hands and tossing it on the floor. "It doesn't matter," he said unconvincingly. "It's like Hermione said, just the gossip pages. Nobody pays any attention to the gossip pages. They'll print any old rubbish there." He ran his hand up Harry's arm in reassurance.  
  
Harry pulled away and walked over until he was standing staring blankly at the wall. The red flush was rising in his cheeks again. "Who was it?" he asked tightly. "Who told her?"  
  
"Harry..." started Hermione.  
  
He spun around so fast he almost stumbled. "Who told her?" he shouted. "It had to be someone in our dorm, that doesn't exactly leave much room for confusion. That means you," he jabbed his finger at Ron, "Or Seamus or Dean or Neville. Who was it?"  
  
"It wasn't Ron!" said Hermione indignantly.  
  
"Harry, calm down," said Ron. "I'm sure it was an accident, you know what these reporters are like..."  
  
But Harry was already off on a tangent as he ignored Ron and turned to Draco, his anger fading away to be replaced by pain. "It's always you, you see? Just like I said, they always blame you. It's never Harry Potter's fault. Harry's our saviour, Harry might be mad, he might be misguided, led astray, but fuck knows he could never actually be at fault for anything!"  
  
"Harry, I don't..."  
  
"No!" Harry shouted. "I don't want to hear that it's okay or that it doesn't matter or whatever it is any of you have to say. I just..." he tailed off as his voice broke and he made a face similar to the one Hermione had been making at the breakfast table in the Great Hall. He bit the inside of his mouth and looked over at Draco.  
  
"I think you two better go," Draco told Ron and Hermione. "Thanks for stopping by."  
  
Hermione nodded her understanding and she and Ron left.  
  
As soon as the door closed behind them Harry made a choking noise and fell back to sit on the bed, hiding his face.  
  
Draco went over to sit next to him, Harry didn't shrug him off this time when he tried to touch him and he pulled Harry into his arms.  
  
"I didn't want them to know," Harry gulped. "I just didn't want anyone to know and now everyone knows."  
  
Draco just stroked his hair and wished there was something he could say.  
  
"And they're blaming you again, just like Ron's Mum. You always get the blame and it's all my fault!"  
  
"It's not your fault, Harry. Nobody's at fault since none of us have done anything wrong," Draco told him firmly but gently.  
  
Harry just sniffled into his chest and Draco continued to comfort him while wondering if anyone would notice if he apparated to Diagon Alley and accidentally set fire to the offices of the Daily Prophet.  
  
\---------------  
  
When Ron and Hermione arrived at Care of Magical Creatures they didn't have to tell Hagrid why Harry wouldn't be in class that morning, he had already seen the paper. He didn't believe a word of it of course which actually left them a little worried as he loudly denounced the possibility that Harry might be gay and they could hardly take the time to sit down and explain that actually he was, since class was ready to start.  
  
When Hermione saw the expression on Seamus's face she knew instantly whose words had been quoted as the anonymous source. He looked immensely guilty and positively terrified as he realised she was looking at him, he stepped behind Dean as she came towards them.  
  
"Was it you?" she asked quietly, her face telling him she already knew the answer and just wanted it confirmed before she murdered him.  
  
"It was an accident," Dean tried to explain, staying between them. "We didn't speak to any reporters. We would never do that to Harry. She must have overheard us talking in the Three Broomsticks."  
  
"She couldn't have overheard you if you hadn't been talking about it in public," Hermione snapped. "You idiots! Do you have any idea what you've done?"  
  
"It would have come out eventually, though," Seamus wheedled from behind Dean. "Couldn't be a secret forever, right?"  
  
Hermione's mouth thinned into a tight line and she raised her wand.  
  
"Hermione!" Dean squeaked. "Wait up. Don't do anything you might regret."  
  
Hermione pushed Dean aside and pointing her wand at Seamus she incanted, "Homo Silencio Totalis."  
  
Seamus opened his mouth to protest and no sound came out.  
  
"That'll teach you to keep your mouth shut," Hermione told him sharply.  
  
"Hermione..." began Dean.  
  
She fixed him with a glare that silenced him without magic. "Don't make me reconsider letting you off," she told him. "I'm really in the mood to hurt someone."  
  
Dean gulped and pulled the gaping Seamus away to the other side of the group.  
  
\---------------  
  
Just as Harry was starting to calm down a little a knocking came at the door. It was Sirius, come to escort Draco to his morning classes. Draco nudged Harry lightly. "Harry, I need to let Sirius in."  
  
Harry stiffened. "No!"  
  
"Don't be silly, it's just Sirius. He already knew, remember?"  
  
"I don't care," said Harry stubbornly. "I don't want to see anyone. Tell him to go away."  
  
Draco sighed. So much for mature, at one with the tides of the earth, Harry. It was back to childish, at odds with everything, Potter. He was going to kill whichever of Harry's dorm mates had tattled to that reporter, slowly, and then he was going to kill the reporter, and then he was going to kill every single person who had read that article. He slipped out from under Harry's weight and went to the door.  
  
"Hello Sirius, come in."  
  
Harry shot up in anger. "I told you not to do that!" When Sirius locked eyes with him his anger dissipated and he slumped back down again. "Fine," he said. "But I'm not going to class."  
  
"Why not?" asked Sirius, confused. He hadn't seen the paper this morning.  
  
Draco fished it up off the floor and handed it to him, folded open to the relevant page.  
  
Sirius started to read it then threw it aside in disgust. "Damn it, Harry. You can't let this kind of rubbish get to you."  
  
Harry shot up again, his mood see-sawing wildly, and shouted, "Yes, I bloody can! Why shouldn't I? Do you know what's going to happen if I go out there? If either of us go out there?"  
  
Sirius, trying to look confident but betraying himself slightly, said, "What? What terrible thing is going to happen?"  
  
"They'll know," Harry hissed. "They'll all look and they'll whisper and then they'll point and they'll have that expression on their faces like we're dirt, worse than dirt, and that's just the people that are too nice to speak out. You think I haven't seen it before? I've seen it on your face, on McGonagall's, on Ron's and his Mum's, on Seamus. I can count the number of people who haven't looked at us like that when they found out on one hand. One hand! And most of those people were the closest people to me in the whole world. Why should I expect better from strangers?"  
  
"Harry..."  
  
But Harry was on a roll. "And then there's what she said about Hermione and Draco, people will believe that you know. People you think would stand by you to the end take one look at a paper and there it is in black and white and they believe it. There'll be a flood of Howlers and envelopes full of Bubotuber Pus and worse by tomorrow. And what if the teachers or the school governors believe it? What if they decide Draco's not to be trusted? Who'll watch over him then, who'll keep him safe then? Do you think they'll really care if Lucius Malfoy's queer son, that suspicious boy who's been leading Harry Potter astray, gets accidentally knocked down a few flights of stairs? They'll probably stop us from seeing each other at the very least. Can't have a scandal, must be seen to be doing the right thing!"  
   
"Harry!" Sirius bellowed. "Will you stop it! You're hysterical."  
  
Harry fell silent and took a step back, breathing hard.  
  
"I think perhaps it is best if you miss you first class today," Sirius said finally. "You're obviously not ... up to it."  
  
"Draco's staying here too," Harry demanded.  
  
"I'm perfectly capable of..." Draco began.  
  
"You're staying here," said Harry tightly, a dangerous gleam in his eye.  
  
"... I'll just stay here then. Great idea."  
  
"But I do think you should try and make some classes. What do you have second period?" asked Sirius.  
  
Harry didn't answer so Draco did, "He has Herbology second, then Charms. Herbology ought to be okay, don't you think Harry? You're with the Hufflepuffs and they've always been fine about Finch-Fletchley."  
  
"I don't want you going to any classes with the Slytherins anymore," Harry demanded suddenly.  
  
"But almost all of my classes are with the Slytherins, you're being ridiculous."  
  
"I am not, I don't trust them and I didn't like you going to classes with them before either. Dumbledore should have transferred you to Gryffindor house or something. They're all trying to kill you."  
  
"The Slytherins aren't all out to get me, I am a Slytherin for pity's sake. Just because a few of them are on Voldemort's side..."  
  
"A few! Half the bloody house probably has a Dark Mark already. The hat must have made a mistake with you, it got confused cause you wanted to be a Slytherin. I bet you should have gone in Ravenclaw. You could put it on again and see. I should have been in Slytherin, the way I keep destroying everything I touch."  
  
"What are you on about? You've spent too much time hanging around with Weasley, there's nothing wrong with Slytherin house."  
  
"Well I don't see many of them coming to visit now you're locked up here all the time," Harry retorted.  
   
"Don't blame them just because I'm not the friendly type."  
  
"Stop it, you two," demanded Sirius. "This isn't worth fighting about. Draco is perfectly safe in his classes and no matter what anyone else says he'll still have me watching over him."  
  
"Thanks," said Draco softly.  
  
Harry looked murderous at Sirius taking Draco's side, so he quickly said, "But maybe it might make things easier on all of us if he were in with the Gryffindor's for more of his classes, if it doesn't disrupt his timetable too much. I could ask Dumbledore." Harry looked grateful. "And for what it's worth," Sirius added. "All Harry saw on my face was surprise and concern. I don't think the worse of either of you for what's happened. I just want to help, and most of the time I don't have the faintest idea how to do that." He sat down. "It's hard for me to get my head around the fact that Harry isn't a child any more. I knew you best as a baby, Harry, it's strange to go from that to someone who's almost an adult."  
  
Harry hugged himself awkwardly. "I just didn't want anyone to know, I hate that they all know," he repeated.  
  
"It'll be okay," Sirius insisted. "There are bigger things to worry about than this and neither me nor Dumbledore will let some stupid gossip affect Draco's safety. I swear it."  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
\----------------  
  
Harry arrived at the greenhouses slightly late, having left a sulking Draco up in his room with promises extracted that he would take Charms and Transfiguration with the Gryffindor's today since he had them today anyway and it wouldn't really mess up his timetable. Sirius was speaking to Dumbledore right now to see if his main classes could be switched permanently. Harry had pulled out his timetable and sat down with it to prove Draco could switch without interfering with his non-compulsory subjects. He wanted Draco where he could see him and know for sure he was safe.  
  
Being late he hadn't really seen anyone in the halls, and those few he had passed he had made a point of not looking at, so he didn't have to face anyone until he stepped into the warm greenhouse and the entire class turned round to stare at the latecomer. Harry flushed red and tripped over his own feet as he tried to get to the chair next to Ron and Hermione as fast as possible.  
  
Despite his late arrival class had not yet started, as apparently Professor Sprout was delayed somewhere. Once Harry sat down the buzz of conversation restarted and Harry, ignoring Ron and Hermione's sympathetic expressions, was about to bury his head in his arms when he was interrupted by an "Erm." He looked up before he could think better of it. It was Justin Finch-Fletchley. Justin gave Harry a friendly and reassuring smile to which Harry considered putting his head on the desk anyway.  
  
"Hi, Harry," he said warmly. "I... uh... just wanted to say... well... don't worry, okay? It's not the best way for things to come out but I suppose that's the way these things work when you're famous. I don't believe any of the nasty things they said and neither does anyone else I've spoken to, we know you're all right and if you say Malfoy's all right then I guess he must be. It's just a load of nonsense in the paper. So, um..." He stuck out his hand for Harry to shake.  
  
Harry, flushed red and not quite able to look Justin in the eye, shook his hand briefly. As Justin walked away Harry saw two of the Hufflepuff girls cast a disgusted look at him, one of them turned around and looked coldly at Harry then turned back to whisper something to the boy next to her. Harry felt slightly sick and finally gave in to the temptation to hide his face.  
  
\--------------------  
  
Harry walked up the music corridor to the sound of the piano. He had never been up here before, music wasn't a big part, or really a part at all, of the curriculum at Hogwarts and none of his friends played an instrument. He had been surprised at first when Draco told him he had been studying the piano for years, but when he thought about it he felt it made sense. He'd thought once that Draco had the fingers of a musician, long and slender and slightly calloused at the tips.  
  
The door he was walking towards was slightly open and outside it sat a large black dog, Sirius, watching him approach. He nodded to him but moved past him and slid the door open a little wider to look in. Draco sat alone at the piano in the slightly dusty room, he was completely focused on the music he was making.  
  
To Harry's untrained ear it was beautiful, though in truth Draco was a mediocre pianist. It was something that didn't bother him at all and hadn't in years. He didn't intend to be a musician, he no longer played for an audience as he had done at his parent's request when younger. This was just for him, because he liked to do it. It was very peaceful, the concentration required to play a complicated piece was like a form of meditation. If you thought too much about what you were doing you would stumble, if you thought about anything else you would lose your place. You just had to do it and nothing else.  
  
The day had passed much as Draco had expected, those with the inclination to taunt had new material to work with. He didn't care but he could see the crude words burning Harry from the inside out and it made him want to hurt them. But worse, and more insidious, were the looks from those who had previously been friendly to Harry, if not to Draco. The thing Harry had feared most, those people who equated gay with dirty and perverted. Draco found it even harder to ignore them, the cowardice of their silent disapproval made him itch to call them on it. To challenge them and demand they say what they were thinking. Amusingly enough there was one person who seemed to actually think better of Draco for the gossip, Pansy Parkinson apparently believed the insinuation that Draco had used magic to get Harry into his bed and was duly impressed with the success of his underhand techniques. While she was completely wrong it was nice to have her being friendly to him again, oddly enough he had missed her.

He came to the end of the piece he was playing and realised there was someone else in the room. Harry. He turned to him and Harry approached, laying his hands on Draco's shoulders.  
  
"You done here?" he asked.  
  
"I'm done."  
  
"Let's go then."  
  
\-----------------  
  
Snape knocked on the door shortly after dinner to give Dumbledore's excuses for being unable to meet Draco for tea as he usually did on a Monday evening. Harry and Sirius left him and Draco alone to talk, Sirius couldn't get out of the room fast enough.  
  
"I wondered when Dumbledore would stop coming by," Draco remarked. "I'm hardly important enough to warrant so much of his time and I'm sure I must have told him everything I know about father and Voldemort by now."  
  
"The headmaster is a busy man," Snape agreed. "But he is still worried about you, I know you must have seen today's delightful article in the Daily Prophet. Has it caused any problems?"  
  
"Not really," said Draco. "Not for me anyway."  
  
Snape gave him a wry look. "I would hardly expect Mr. Potter to handle the situation well, not with his tendency to histrionics."  
  
"This is everything he's been afraid of," Draco said angrily. "How would you like to have all your darkest secrets printed in the paper and your closest friends accused of using you."  
  
Snape pursed his lips, clearly wanting to say he wouldn't care, but knowing Draco knew him somewhat too well to get away with it. “I am sure that is exactly what will happen as soon as my history is made public later this month.”  
  
Draco looked momentarily thrown.  
  
“During the trial of Peter Pettigrew, at which I will be testifying,” Snape reminded him.  
  
"Oh. Right," said Draco, feeling slightly awkward. "It's just that you act as if Harry's just after attention when that's the last thing he wants."  
  
"You would think that Potter would be used to it by now. But no, and now the entire teaching staff are running around like headless chickens terrified that he's going to do something stupid. And who do we have to stop that from happening? Sirius Black!" Snape shook his head wearily.  
  
"Harry isn't going to do anything stupid, not again."  
  
Snape raised an eyebrow but did not argue. "I hope you're right. The headmaster seems to agree, he thinks that the presence of Black and the fact that you and Potter are reconciled will be enough to keep him from mental breakdown. I presume you are still ... reconciled? You certainly gave me an eyeful on Friday night, I am considering having the memory professionally expunged for my own peace of mind."  
  
Draco smirked.  
  
"Wonderful," Snape muttered.  
  
"Try not to be too pleased for us, Professor."  
  
"I simply ask that you inform me of any serious problems and do not tell me about anything I would not wish to know. Dumbledore will insist that I make sure you are happy as well as safe, as if I have any control over your mental state with Potter dancing roughshod over your feelings every time he gets upset about breaking a nail."  
  
"I will let you know if there's anything important," said Draco dryly.  
  
"So, how are you?" Snape said, as if the very question were distasteful to him.  
  
"I'm fine," Draco lied, whatever problems he did have, it wasn't as though Snape could really help beyond just being around. So he told him that much at least. "It's good though, to have someone to talk to who isn't Harry, who isn't involved. Stuck in this room all the time, sometimes it starts to feel as if you're not a part of the real world any more. I wonder what the point was sometimes, if I have to spend the rest of my life hiding." Snape looked worried at that and he quickly added, "I don't mean... it's not that bad, it's not the lack of company really either, I just hate not being able to go out on my own, go flying or just for a walk or something and even if I do go with Sirius or something there's this constant itch... waiting for someone to attack."  
   
Snape sighed. "This won't be forever. Voldemort will forget about you in time and for now I trust you will get excellent marks this year with all the extra study you will have time for."  
  
Draco made a face. "My father will be so pleased."  
  
\---------  
  
Sirius led Harry back to his room just down the hall from Draco's, knowing he wouldn't want to be out in public any longer than necessary. He had been quiet all day and all through dinner, never really meeting anybody's eye so that you couldn't tell what he was feeling.  
  
He sat down in front of the fire and stared into it, picking at his robes in a gesture that betrayed his anxiety.  
  
"It wasn't so bad today was it?" Sirius asked hopefully.  
  
Harry just gave a short mirthless bark of laughter.  
  
Sirius laid a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Harry..." he said helplessly, not knowing how to get it through Harry's head that this didn't matter, how to help him not to let this affect him so much.  
  
"I'll be fine," said Harry flatly.  
  
"Yes, you will be fine, eventually," Sirius said firmly. "But I'm worried about now, I just want to be sure you make it to eventually."  
  
"I'm not going to do anything stupid," Harry protested. "But you can't expect me to be happy about what's happening. I can't exactly just ignore it when the Slytherins are yelling comments at me across the Great Hall and I spend all day worrying about Draco and wondering how long it'll be before Voldemort shows up again." Harry pulled away from him and stood up. "Shit! Sorry, I'm babbling. I'm just finding it hard to... people keep asking me how I am and they just won't take fine for an answer. I don't want to talk about it, it sucks and I hate it and there's nothing you or anyone else can do to make it go away. Can't we just leave it at that?"  
  
"We don't have to talk about it, but it scares me when you won't talk at all. You didn't say a thing all through dinner."  
  
"That's not true."  
  
Sirius gave him a sceptical look.  
  
"I asked Ron to pass the bread," said Harry lamely, he gave a half smile, inviting Sirius to lift the mood.  
  
Sirius rolled his eyes. "So... what the hell are we going to talk about then?"  
  
"Has there been letters yet do you think?" Harry asked. "About the article? Maybe Snape will know. That could be why Dumbledore didn't have time to see Draco."  
  
"I'm sure Dumbledore has other things to do that have nothing to do with you or Draco. There's Wormtail's trial for a start and preparing for the publicity around that."  
  
"I suppose. Do you really think Voldemort will attack openly once people start believing he's back?"  
  
"I don't know. He has to start eventually. Maybe it'll be better that way, get the fight out into the open. I hate all this cloak and dagger stuff."  
  
\---  
  
Later that night, after Snape and Sirius had left the two boys alone, Harry asked Draco the same question.  
  
"I don't know, I think so. But I'd rather not think about it at all. What's the point? There's nothing more I can do."  
  
"I can't stop thinking about it, cause when it starts I'll know. I'll see." Harry rubbed at his scar. "It aches, more and more every day."  
  
Draco pulled him in against him. "Go to sleep."  
  
Long after Draco had fallen asleep, Harry lay silently listening to the sounds of him breathing, and of the castle, and he waited.

 


	13. Letters

**Tuesday 4th November**  
**Letters**

To Prof. Dumbledore  
From C. Hardnose, MoM, Dept of Education

Please expect a representative from our department on Thursday for a routine inspection.

\---

_Dear Ron,_

_How are things at school? You never write to us, Ginny writes all the time. Did you have a nice Halloween? We went down to the village bonfire with the Lovegoods, it was wonderful. How is Harry? Please ask him if he would like to spend Christmas with us. Charlie will be home for Christmas, but Bill is staying in Egypt. We miss you._

_Love Mum._

\---

Dear Mother,

I think it would be best if I stayed at Hogwarts over Yule, I do not want to risk putting you in danger. Perhaps you could come to the school for a short visit?

Your loving son,  
Draco

\---

_Dear Fred and George,_

_I hope you have been behaving yourselves and looking after your brother and sister. Your father will be coming to see you play Hufflepuff next week. He says to ask if Harry will still be playing Seeker or not? He will take you out for dinner in Hogsmeade afterwards if you like._

_Love Mum._

\---

**HERMOINE GRANGER**

**YOU R AN EVIL GIRL I NOW YOU TURND HARRY POTTER GAY BECAUSE HE WOOLD NOT BE YOUR BOYFREND BUT I CAN MAK HIM BETER AND THEN HE WIL NEVER SPEEK TOO YOU AGAIN AND YOU WILL BE SORRY! YOU AR UGLY AND I WILL MAK YOU PAY FOR WHAT YOU DONE TO HARRY AND THAT OTHER BOY TOO!!!**

***HARRYS GIRL 4EVER***

\------------------------------  
**Wednesday 5th November**

  
"I haven't seen any of it," said Hermione. "Professor McGonagall is screening all our mail. All we got this morning was a letter from Ron's Mum."  
  
"There was nothing in it about the article," Ron added, at the look on Harry's face. "Just the usual how are you and why don't you write more. Oh, and she wants you to come to the Burrow for Christmas."  
  
Harry looked pleased until Hermione added huffily, "Just you, not me or Draco. ”  
  
"Well, she knows you'd be able to go home for Christmas," Ron said impatiently. "And Malfoy probably can't risk leaving the school anyway."  
  
"I'm staying at school with Draco," Harry said, taking Draco's hand under the table.  
  
"Well, I had guessed that much," said Ron. "But I still had to pass on the message."  
  
"Do you think she believes the paper?" Harry asked Hermione.  
  
Hermione sighed. "I don't know. Not inviting Draco doesn't really tell us anything, but..."  
  
"Not inviting you does," finished Harry.  
  
"It doesn't really," Ron protested. "Maybe she just believed the bit about me and Hermione, I'm sure she wouldn't believe any of that other crap."  
  
"Then she doesn't think I'm using Harry, she just thinks I'm using you," said Hermione tightly. "I don't see how that's any better."  
   
"That's not what I meant."  
  
"Face it, Weasley," said Draco. "Your mother ..."  
  
"Stop talking now, Malfoy," snapped Ron. "Before you say something I need to hit you for."  
  
"Ron!" objected Hermione. "You don't even know what he was going to say."  
  
She looked at Draco to continue and he just shrugged sheepishly, "Actually, he had a point. Do continue explaining the vagueries of your family's psyche." He gestured to Ron to go on.  
  
Ron scowled. "What I meant," he said doggedly, "is that my Mum isn't too great with us bringing girlfriends home, it makes her uncomfortable, so if she thought we were going out she probably wouldn't invite you over for Christmas. But really, who knows what goes on in her head, I just don't think you should assume she believes the worst. I'm sure she doesn't believe what that woman wrote."  
  
  
\------------------  
**Staff meeting**  
  
"Professor Dumbledore has asked me to talk to you about an upcoming school inspection," announced Professor McGonagall. "There will be a representative of the Department of Education arriving tomorrow. I'm sure they will be sitting in on some of the classes and may want to interview some of you privately."  
  
"It's a bit last minute, isn't it?" said Madame Hooch.  
  
"Very irregular," muttered Professor Vector.  
  
"Didn't even know there was a Department of Education," added Professor Sprout.  
  
"That is as may be, but we must endeavour to make them welcome. Please answer any questions they have about your teaching methods, but I must note that you should not be required to answer questions which fall outside the scope of your job... particularly any that may be asked about the personal lives of your pupils." She looked at them one at a time. "I hope you understand me."  
  
Professor Sinistra rolled her eyes. "This is about that article in the paper isn't it?"  
  
McGonagall sighed. "The Ministry was very clear on the fact that this was a routine inspection, utterly unrelated to any current events that may or may not have just been reported in the gossip column of the Daily Prophet. If that answers your question."  
   
Madame Hooch snorted. "Bloody bureaucrats. Don't worry Minnie, we'll keep our traps shut and let you and Dumbledore deal with it."  
  
"Thank you," said McGonagall looking vaguely relieved.

\------------------

**More Letters**

To Professor Albus Dumbledore,

I am most concerned about the recent rumours regarding my son and Mr Potter. It is worrying enough to know that my sons life is endangered by other students in your school to the extent that he cannot move around alone or eat meals with his house-mates. The current situation is unacceptable and I must insist you weed out those students who are causing trouble and quash these ridiculous rumours, it is hard enough for Draco to cope with our family's recent misfortune without this kind of additional stress. It is a sad day when two boys cannot be friends and comfort one another in times of need without being accused of homosexuality.

Sincerely,  
Narcissa Malfoy

\---

_Dearest Draco,_

_I understand that you are worried, but it seems to me that it is at school you are most at danger. I will come and visit you soon as I wish to speak to the headmaster anyway._

_Your loving Mother,  
Narcissa _

\--------------------

  
"Those fucking reporters!" snarled Sirius on hearing about the upcoming school inspection. "Will they want to speak to Harry do you think? As his guardian I could say no, couldn't I?"  
  
"You can't act as Potter's guardian until you're officially cleared of all charges," said Snape witheringly.  
  
"He's right," agreed Dumbledore. "Until Peter Pettigrew's trial is over and you receive an official pardon..."  
  
"If you do," added Snape.  
  
"The Dursley's remain Harry's legal guardians," Dumbledore finished, giving Snape a dry look.  
  
"Fuck!" swore Sirius, looking around for something to kick.  
  
"We need to make sure they have no reason to suspect the allegations are true, obviously the ridiculous notion that Mr Malfoy and Miss Granger are using magic to control Harry will not be a problem. However the board is unlikely to react well to any proof of a sexual relationship between the boys and they could call for expulsion, it has happened in the past."  
  
"It has!" said Sirius looking worried. "I never heard of it..."  
  
"Not since before your time, Sirius," Dumbledore said calmly. "We will need to speak to the boys, if you will go and fetch them..."  
  
Sirius left the room and Snape and Dumbledore sat silent for a while, awaiting his return with Harry and Draco.  
  
Eventually Snape said, "What do you think they have in mind? The Ministry that is. It seems odd that they would get involved over some gossip. I suppose it's Potter's name that stirred up such a fuss."  
  
"Perhaps, perhaps not. They have not been able to track down Lucius Malfoy and after the items they found in his house they are desperate to arrest him and quash the rumours that he is with Lord Voldemort. They may be hoping that Draco will know something. Fortunately as in absentia guardian of every pupil in the school I can demand that none of them are interviewed without a teacher as a witness, I will not have Ministry officials interrogating my pupils. There is nothing helpful Draco can tell them that I have not already passed on to the relevant authorities."  
  
"And if they think Draco is endangering Potter?"  
  
The door knocked and then opened as Sirius arrived back.  
  
"Do sit down," said Professor Dumbledore as the boys entered, accompanied by Sirius. "Tea?"  
  
"Yes, please," said Harry, feeling the need more for something to fiddle with than for refreshment. Draco nodded.  
  
Dumbledore poured the tea for them and settled back, regarding them over his cup. "We are to receive a visit from the Department of Education tomorrow," he said finally. "They are calling it a routine school inspection." He watched Harry, but it was Draco who spoke first.  
  
"There's no law..." began Draco, but the headmaster stopped him with a raised hand.  
  
"There is no specific law that you have broken," he agreed. "But there were allegations of such, easily disproved of course. More important, however, are the rules that this and all wizarding schools in this country are required to uphold. It is not against the law to cheat in your OWLs, but it is against the rules and does lead to expulsion."  
  
"And what do the rules say about us then?" Harry asked tightly.  
  
Dumbledore replied gently, "The rules say that it is not permitted for pupils to share a bed or to engage in sexual activity on school grounds. They also, most unfortunately, still state that any boy who propositions another boy or is involved in a so called 'unnatural' relationship with another boy should be immediately expelled."  
  
Draco's half spoken surprise was audible over the moment of eerie silence.  
  
"Harry..." began Sirius.  
  
"But Finch-Fletchley..." Draco said at the same time.  
  
Dumbledore held up his hand for silence. "These rules are only partly enforced, by unspoken agreement there is a blind eye turned unless teachers feel intervention is necessary and the punishments are token. No-one has been expelled for getting involved with another student since before I became headmaster."  
  
"But that won't matter now, will it," said Harry blankly. "Because it's me."  
  
Sirius stifled an impulse to punch something.  
  
"However unfair it seems, we must at least give the impression that there is nothing... improper going on," Dumbledore answered, his distaste at the situation evident. "The risk of the Ministry deciding to interfere is too great. You must remain in your dormitory tonight and tomorrow night, Harry. I will not ask either of you to lie to the inspectors, only to tell them no more than is their business to know. I trust your judgement."  
  
"And if that isn't enough?" asked Harry. "If they want us expelled?"  
  
"That will not happen."  
   
Harry stared at him for a long moment. "Right then," he said finally. "We'll just get along to bed then, our separate beds of course." He stood to leave. "If that's all right?"  
  
"Of course," said Dumbledore. "However if Draco could wait, I would like him to go and speak to Severus before he retires for the night."  
  
Sirius and Harry left the room and Draco tried to look attentive rather than generally annoyed at not getting to say good night to Harry properly. A few minutes of small talk later Snape showed up and they walked together back to Draco's room.  
  
"I will be blunt," said Snape after they had closed the door and sat down.  
  
"For a change?" Draco quipped.  
  
Snape glared him into silence. "There is every chance the inspectors will be out for anything they can find. You must not get angry and say anything stupid, Draco. We do not know what their exact reasons are for the inspection."  
  
"But I..."  
  
"I will say one name... Mrs Weasley."  
  
Draco fell silent. "Right," he said. "Don't get angry and say something stupid."  
  
"Good. If we can just get through the next two days I'm sure everything will go back to normal... whatever that is."  
  
\---  
  
Harry lay awake in his dormitory listening to the others sleep. McGonagall had been to see them while he had been speaking to Professor Dumbledore and they had assured Harry, quite vehemently on Seamus part, that they wouldn't tell the inspectors anything about him and Draco. Harry knew they meant it but still didn't trust them not to slip up by mistake, didn't trust someone not to say something. It wouldn't take much and who knew what they knew already or what they intended. Was it just Draco they were after or both of them? He was never sure with the Ministry. One minute they were pardoning him for blowing up his aunt, the next minute they were refusing to listen to him about Voldemort being back and saying he was mad.  
  
What if Mrs Weasley had written to them after she read the article, she was bound to have read it. It must have confirmed all her worst fears about him and Draco.  
  
He tossed uncomfortably. His feet were too cold and the rest of him was mysteriously too hot even though he was used to having an extra warm body in bed with him. This year was absolutely the worst, he had never felt so... helpless. So unable to fight against what was going on. He almost wished Voldemort would rear his head again, or Draco's father, so he could feel the familiar strength and adrenaline rush of the fight, the powerful triumph that had shot through him when he and Draco had cursed Voldemort and escaped from under his nose. He knew it was silly, knew it wasn't really like that when it was happening, but somehow Cedric's death seemed so far away now and sometimes it was easier to remember the winning than the terror. Easier to face death than to be faced with expulsion from Hogwarts and loss of not just Draco but everything that meant anything to him.  
  
  
\-----------------------------  
**Thursday 6th November**  
  
When Harry arrived at breakfast that morning there were two newcomers at the head table. One was a sour faced woman who looked a bit like a toad, with her lips pressed together so tightly they looked sewn shut, and a peculiar bow perched on the top of her head. The other was a bald sweaty man with darting eyes who reminded him unpleasantly of Wormtail. He glowered at them over his toast. Thanks to these nosy, disapproving people he had lain awake all night worrying about what they would ask him and he hadn't even had the comfort of a familiar body beside him to distract himself. At least he would see Draco after breakfast in double Defense Against the Dark Arts.  
  
Except he didn't, because Draco didn't arrive.  
  
Noting Harry's distracted state Hermione whispered, "He's probably just had to talk to the school inspector."  
  
He knew Hermione meant to be reassuring but the thought that Draco was currently being interrogated by someone who had the power to have him expelled and looked like they would be more than happy to do so was far from comforting. He would give anything to know what was being said right now.  
  
As a result of his distraction he nearly got detention and he suspected only the fact that his teacher had guessed what was bothering him had saved him from it.  
  
He didn't see Draco in lunch either and as the meal finished up Professor McGonagall approached him.  
  
"Potter," she said gently but firmly. "If you would come with me."  
  
Hermione grabbed his hand and squeezed it quickly as he slid out from the table. He gave her and Ron what he hoped was a reassuring smile and followed McGonagall out of the Great Hall.  
  
As soon as they were through the doors he began questioning her. "Has Draco been with the inspectors? Did it go okay? What did they ask him?"  
  
McGonagall held up her hand for silence. "Mr Malfoy was interviewed by them this morning and then observed in a class. I was not present at the interview and have no idea what was asked."  
  
"But someone was with him, he wasn't left alone with them."  
  
"Professor Snape was present for the interview just as I, as your head of house, will be present at yours."  
  
"Is it now?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"They're not making much pretence that they're here for a routine inspection are they," Harry growled.  
  
"They wish to speak in depth to one pupil from each house, entirely randomly chosen of course."  
  
"Who are the other two?" Harry wondered.  
  
"Justin Finch-Fletchley and Terry Boot," she said tightly.  
  
"Justin," breathed Harry.  
  
"Well, here we are," said McGonagall stopping in front of a closed door. "Ready Potter?"  
  
Harry felt his stomach lurch and for a moment he thought he might bring up what little lunch he'd eaten. "No," he said weakly. "But we better go in anyway."  
  
"Just don't answer anything you don't think is their business," she told him. "They don't have any rights to the details of your personal life."  
  
Harry nodded and she rapped twice on the door then opened it.  
  
Stepping inside Harry was faced with the harsh, unblinking stare of the woman he had seen at breakfast. "Harry Potter, I presume?" she asked, giving him a look worthy of Aunt Petunia.  
  
"Yes," he answered with a near croak, coughing to clear his throat of the lump lodged in it.  
  
"Sit down, please." Harry sat in the hard wooden chair facing her across a virtually empty desk. "My name is Miss Umbridge. I'm just going to ask you a few questions about life here at Hogwarts. Nothing to worry about." She gave a tight little smile that looked a bit like a grimace. "First of all, how old are you Mr Potter?"  
  
"Fifteen."  
  
"You are a 5th year Gryffindor, correct?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And what classes do you take?"  
  
Harry told her, starting to feel more and more relaxed as the questions continued.  
  
Had he had enough support choosing his OWL level subjects? What did he think of the meals here? Did he feel his homework load was too heavy?  
  
"And who would you say were your closest friends here at Hogwarts?"  
  
"Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger," he answered promptly.  
  
"They are both Gryffindors too?"  
  
"Yes, that's right."  
  
"You don't get on well with the students in the other houses then?"  
  
"I get on okay with them mostly," Harry said carelessly. "Except the Slytherins, I don't get on with them at all. Well aside from Draco obviously."  
  
"That would be Draco Malfoy, correct?" she said.  
  
Harry started, realising he had brought up exactly what he hadn't wanted to talk about. "Yes," he stammered.  
  
Next to him, McGonagall's eye twitched slightly, but she said nothing.  
   
"And you and Draco get on well?"  
  
"Um... yes." Harry thought about trying to explain better but decided it was safer to stick to short answers.  
  
"You spend a lot of time together?"  
  
"Uh... I suppose. He..." He floundered for how to explain and sound innocent at the same time. "He can't really hang out with his old friends any more, cause of what happened with his Dad."  
  
"And does Mr Malfoy visit you in Gryffindor Tower?"  
  
"Um... sometimes. But mostly I see him in class or in his room." Harry paused. "With Ron and Hermione, that is," he added. "We all visit him in his room together."  
  
"And your other friends get on with Mr Malfoy then, Hermione and Ron?"  
  
"Yeah, we're all friends."  
  
"But you didn't mention him before when I asked who your close friends were."  
  
"Well, I've been friends with Ron and Hermione longer. I only started being friends with Draco this year."  
  
"And how did that happen?"  
  
McGonagall cleared her throat. "I really don't see what Mr Potter's friends have to do with the running of the school," she remarked.  
  
"We are interested in the House structure," Miss Umbridge said looking annoyed. "How the different houses interact and whether it is causing unnecessary tension within the school. As such Mr Potter's friendship with Mr Malfoy is very relevant." She put an accent on the word friendship that Harry did not like at all. "So," she continued. "You were about to tell me how you and Mr Malfoy became... close."  
  
"Draco wasn't getting along so well with his Dad," Harry said shortly. "Hermione and I got to talking with him and we realised he wasn't so bad. The other Slytherins turned on him for hanging out with Gryffindors and so he started spending more time with us. And for what it's worth I think the House structure is just fine except that the Slytherins think they're better than everyone else, but that's mostly their parents fault I expect. Draco used to be the same till he stopped listening to his Dad so much."  
  
Miss Umbridge looked like she couldn't care less about Harry's opinion on the House structure. "I understand Mr Malfoy doesn't leave his room without an escort due to the belief that his life is in danger."  
  
"His life is in danger," said Harry tightly. "He's been attacked twice already all because he saved my life!"  
  
"From his Father?"  
  
Harry exchanged a look with Professor McGonagall, they had agreed that now was not the time to bring up Lord Voldemort and whether he was back or not.  
  
"That's right," he answered.  
  
"And you don't believe Mr Malfoy was at all involved in his Father's plan?"  
  
"Of course not!"  
  
"Then you must be very grateful to him for saving you and your friends."  
  
"Yes, we all are."  
  
"He must be lonely, with only the three of you to speak to, locked away in a private room."  
  
"I suppose," Harry hedged.  
  
"Does he ever ask you to stay late in his room, to... keep him company?"  
  
Harry froze at the question, unsure how to answer.  
  
"I... we all have to be in our House by 9pm," he said.  
  
"And you never stay out later with Draco?" she coaxed. "Never bend the rules a little?"  
  
"No," said Harry flatly, lying through his teeth. This had gone far enough.  
  
After that, no matter what she asked, she got nothing but surly monosyllabic answers from Harry and after a while she gave up.  
  
"Well, that will be all Mr Potter. Thank you for your time."  
  
Harry heaved a sigh of relief and quickly stood up and headed for the door, Professor McGonagall following him.  
  
"Professor McGonagall, if you could wait just a moment. I'd like a few words with you alone."  
  
Harry didn't pause, he just kept going to the door and out into the hallway. Glancing at a nearby clock he saw he had missed his Spell Creation Class but could still make it to Herbology if he hurried. He decided he may as well go, he didn't want to do anything to give a bad impression while the inspectors were here.  
  
He arrived in Herbology, made his apologies to Professor Sprout for being late, and headed over to the bench that housed Hermione and Ron.  
  
"Are you okay?" Hermione whispered immediately.  
  
"Was it awful?" asked Ron.  
  
"It wasn't great," he replied. "But I don't think I said anything too stupid. She's definitely after me and Draco though, asking all these questions about how we became friends and whether I stay late in his room. Have you seen Draco?" This last was directed at Ron. "Was he in class?" He knew Ron should have had Muggle Studies with Draco this afternoon.  
  
"Yeah, he was there, but I didn't get a chance to talk to him. That bloke was observing the class and Draco was sitting on the other side of the room from me cause he got there late."  
  
"Speaking of that bloke," hissed Hermione.  
  
Harry looked in the direction she was indicating and sure enough the twitchy man had entered and was speaking to Professor Sprout. He watched him carefully with ducked head as Hermione explained briefly what they were supposed to be doing. The man spent the whole class lurking in the corner with a notebook and quill and Harry felt as if his eyes were always on the three of them.  
  
By the time dinner was drawing to a close Harry was going out of his mind with the tension of not knowing what had happened in Draco's interview or even having seen Draco since last night in Dumbledore's office. The desire to go to Draco's room after dinner was almost physical, like a rope was tied around his waist and Draco was tugging at the other end trying to reel him in. But instead he followed Hermione and Ron slowly back up to the Gryffindor Common Room, dragging behind sullenly.  
  
Hermione dropped back eventually and tugged on his arm saying, "Come on, Harry, it's only a couple of nights after all. Stop moping."  
  
Harry tugged his arm back a little more harshly than necessary. "I'm not moping," he growled. "I'm worried."  
  
"Well stop it, it's going to be fine. This time tomorrow they'll be gone and nobody will have told them anything because the only people that know anything are your friends and they won't make the same mistake again. Did it seem like they knew anything more than they read in the paper?"  
  
Harry shook his head as they climbed through the portrait hole after Ron. "I don't think so, it seemed more like they were fishing to see if I would give them anything to go on. And I'm sure I didn't."  
  
"Then stop worrying."  
  
Harry did stop worrying a little after that but he still wished he could see Draco to be sure his interview had gone all right, though he supposed if it hadn't they would have had something to go on in his own interview, having spoken to Draco first. And really he mostly wanted to see Draco so he could forget his tension in the other boy's body.  
  
As he sat staring sightlessly into the fire he thought about touching Draco, being touched, pressed down into the sheets. Since Halloween they had only had sex once more, on the Sunday night before the paper had come out. Three times in total. He wondered how long it would be before he couldn't remember exactly how many times they had done it, wondered if it would ever become just something they did instead of this amazingly huge thing that he still couldn't quite believe he'd really done. He hoped never. He was just thinking about taking himself up to his bed to contemplate sex with Draco somewhere a little more quiet when the portrait swung open and in stepped Professor McGonagall followed by the Umbridge woman. Any arousal Harry had been feeling immediately shrivelled to nothing.  
"Please continue whatever you are doing," announced McGonagall looking put upon. "Miss Umbridge would just like a few words with you."

Harry's hands tightened into nervous fists as he glanced around the room.

Umbridge dislodged some second years from a table with two chairs in the corner. "You don't have to wait, Professor McGonagall," she said. "I'm sure I can handle this."

"I don't mind," McGonagall replied taking an armchair from a sixth year and turning it so she could see Umbridge clearly.

"Perhaps you misunderstand. I would prefer to see the children interact without a teacher present."  
  
"Unfortunately that will not be possible," said McGonagall coldly.  
  
The Gryffindors watched the growing disagreement with wide eyes.  
  
"Are you afraid to let the children speak freely?"  
  
"What makes you think they cannot do so in my presence?"  
  
"The fact that you are afraid to let them only implies that you have something to hide."  
   
"Or perhaps the fact that you are so desperate to get them alone implies that you have questions to ask them which you do not want me to hear," challenged McGonagall.  
  
"I have nothing to hide," sniffed Miss Umbridge. She raised her voice, "Mr Ron Weasley?"  
  
Ron gulped and Harry went slightly pale. It wasn't that he didn't trust Ron, it was just that he might say the wrong thing by accident.  
  
Ron sat down at the table and Harry craned to hear what she was asking him but her murmured words were too quiet. Fortunately Ron felt no such compulsion to whisper, although his initial "Yes" "No" "I suppose" answers weren't terribly informative. Harry fidgeted. McGonagall glowered. Hermione bit her lip.  
  
"Actually," said Ron loudly, going bright red. "I don't think that's any of your business."  
  
Miss Umbridge whispered furiously.  
  
"If you want to know about Harry," Ron replied angrily, "Why don't you ask him? He's sitting right there."  
  
MissUmbridge looked furiously embarrassed and Harry caught Professor McGonagall smothering a pleased expression. "Miss Umbridge," she said. "I do not think it is appropriate to be asking students to discuss their classmates behind their backs. "  
  
"I was simply trying to ascertain... that is... " she glanced around the room and was met with only blank stares. "I think I am finished here, I can see myself out." She stood up, gathered her notes, and left the common room.  
  
Ron rolled his eyes at Harry with a relieved look and Harry smiled at him thankfully.  
  
"Well," said McGonagall, standing up. "I suppose I better go and keep an eye on her. Goodnight."  
  
Once McGonagall had left, Harry and Hermione joined Ron at the corner table to find out what he had been asked.  
  
"It was mostly nothing," he told them. "Then out of the blue she asks me if Harry's ever 'touched me in an inappropriate manner'!"  
  
Harry couldn't help but blush angrily at this.  
  
"So I told her it was none of her business and she only keeps on with how she understands it might be difficult to talk about but it would be best for everyone if I just told her about anything I had seen Harry do that might have made me feel uncomfortable or threatened and that if I told the truth I wouldn't get into any trouble!"  
  
"She thought it was you," Harry realised. "In the article, she thought you were the person quoted."  
  
"I guess," said Ron. "Doesn't really matter, she didn't get anything from me or from you and I'm sure she didn't get anything from Malfoy either and tomorrow she'll be gone and we can just forget about her stupid inspection."  
  
"I hope so," said Harry. "I really do."

 


	14. Justin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Midway through this chapter marks the start of the material written in 2016. Prior to that the story hadn't been added to since 2004. However there has been an amount of rewriting done on previous chapters from the original 2002-2004 versions.

**Friday 7th November**

  
The next day passed more easily with the anticipation of the inspectors being gone by the end of it. Harry saw them from time to time, always with a professor tagging along with them. After lunch was triple Potions, something Harry would have dreaded a year ago but seemed wonderful now. Three whole hours with Draco and not an inspector in sight either. They whispered under their breaths about the interviews yesterday, as much as they could anyway, until Snape looked like he was about to snap and give them both detention. So they gave up talking and just gave each other sly teasing looks that seemed to annoy Snape just as much or perhaps more since he couldn't punish them for looking at each other, although he did remove 10 points from Gryffindor because Harry wasn't paying attention. Harry couldn't have cared less.  
  
It wasn't until dinner that he slipped out of his positive mindset. Something was wrong. He knew it the minute he entered the Great Hall. The teachers faces were set and grim, Dumbledore and Professor Sprout were missing and Snape and McGonagall seemed to be arguing about something under their breaths.  
  
Harry stared at them, trying to read their lips as he walked to the table to sit down, but Hermione grabbed his arm, distracting him. "Look at the Hufflepuff table."  
  
"Whu?" said Ron, who was already pouring himself a drink and hadn't noticed anything.  
  
Harry looked over. There was a commotion among the Hufflepuff fifth years, a girl whose name he couldn't remember was crying on someone's shoulder and the rest of the table were arguing around her. Harry couldn't make out what was being said until one voice broke over the others.  
  
"Well I think it serves him right!" said Zacharias Smith. "I told Justin, keep your mouth shut, but no. He had to decide to make a stand, all that rubbish about how there was nothing wrong with it. If he'd listened to me and not flouted it like it was something to be proud of he'd have been fine. We wouldn't have let on, not if he had stayed quiet."  
  
"Shut up!" yelled the girl who'd been crying. "Shut up, shut up, shut up!"  
  
Professor McGonagall was hurrying down from the teachers table to deal with the ruckus.  
  
"It's okay, Leanne," said Ernie MacMillan, the boy she had been leaning on. "Ignore him. Fucking pureblood wizards and their fucking prejudices..."  
  
"Why don't you shut your mouth, MacMillan," started an older boy Harry didn't know.  
  
"Quiet down please," said McGonagall. "Everyone sit down. This is not helping matters."  
  
"What the hell is going on?" Harry wondered.  
  
"Justin," said Hermione in a small voice. "Justin isn't there. He was being interviewed today, remember? Him and Terry Boot."  
  
"What?" Harry suddenly realised what she meant, what Zacharias Smith had meant. "No, oh no. But didn't they tell him? The teachers? Didn't they tell him not to say anything?"  
  
"I don't know," said Hermione. "I don't know if they even knew he was gay."  
  
"But they must have, everyone knew didn't they?"  
  
She didn't answer and Harry didn't know what else to say. He just sat there and stared at the Hufflepuff table, not the slightest bit hungry any more, not feeling any relief at having escaped the inspectors himself. McGonagall was escorting Leanne out of the hall and as they passed the Gryffindor table she turned and hissed at Harry, "It should have been you!"  
  
McGonagall pulled her past quickly, looking upset, and Harry stared after them. "She's right," he whispered mostly to himself.  
  
"Don't..." Hermione started.  
  
"She's right," he repeated louder. "It was me they were here for, me and Draco. They only went for Justin because they were angry and they couldn't get at us."  
  
"Don't say that," Hermione pleaded. "We don't even know for sure what's happened. Maybe Justin's okay, maybe they just wanted to interview him again or even if they do know we don't know he's been expelled or anything."  
  
"Hermione's right," said Ron, sounding gruffly unconvincing. "Let's just calm down and wait until we know something for sure."  
  
"And it's not your fault anyway, it's that stupid woman, that reporter and her foul ideas."  
  
Harry ignored them both, staring at his empty plate. He felt sick. He stood up quickly. "I'm not hungry, I'm going back to the Common Room." He turned to go and heard them getting up to follow him. "Don't," he said roughly. "Just let me be for a bit."  
  
He left the hall, heading up for the Common Room, but stopped half way. Maybe it would be okay to go to Draco's room now, he wasn't sure if the Inspectors were still here but even if they were it sounded like they were busy, what were the chances that they would stop by to visit Draco before leaving. And even if they did they would have to knock and he could hide or something, it wasn't like Dumbledore or McGonagall would let them search the room. And besides the Inspectors knew he and Draco were friends, he had told them himself. He knew he was making excuses but it felt almost like it didn't matter now anyway.  
  
When he got there he knocked on the door lightly. There was a moment's silence then Draco called out, "Who is it?"  
  
"It's me," Harry called through the door.  
  
"Actually," said Draco sardonically as he opened the door. "I'm me, you're you."  
  
"Very funny." Harry walked over to the table where a large dog sat beside an empty chair, as soon as the door closed Sirius changed back into a man.  
  
"You're not supposed to be up here," he said sternly. "What about the inspectors?"  
  
Harry's face fell again, for a brief moment he had let them slip his mind. "I don't care about them," he said heavily, sitting down. "They know we're friends so it's not like they can prove anything just because I'm visiting him. Besides, they're too busy expelling Justin Finch-Fletchley to worry about us any more."  
  
"What?" said Draco.  
  
"They chose four students to interview, one from each house. Justin was the Hufflepuff they chose, he came out last year," Harry told Sirius. "It looks like he didn't do a very good job of keeping quiet about that, if the teachers even thought to tell him he should."  
  
"He's being expelled?" said Sirius incredulously. "For being gay? But I thought..."  
  
"I don't know for sure," Harry added. "There wasn't an announcement or anything and I don't know exactly what happened. But Justin wasn't at dinner and the Hufflepuffs were all yelling at each other and Sprout and Dumbledore were missing too and McGonagall looked awful. Maybe he was trying to make a point, gay pride and all that, or maybe Zacharias Smith shopped him in. Who knows. Who the fuck knows."  
  
Draco came over and put his hands on Harry's shoulders. "Well," he said thoughtfully. "Whatever happened it's not our problem. I mean it's a shame, but these things happen."  
  
"What?" said Harry. He twisted to face Draco. "These things happen?" he repeated incredulously.  
  
"Well, yes," said Draco. "It's unfortunate, but at least we can stop worrying about it now."  
  
"Unfortunate?" said Harry, his voice rising.  
  
"Calm down," said Draco. "What's the big deal? So some idiot Hufflepuff couldn't keep his mouth shut, it's nothing to do with us."  
  
"It's our fault!" Harry shouted. "They were here for us! And Justin wasn't just some idiot Hufflepuff."  
  
"Oh come off it, Finch-Fletchley was an annoying oik, always going on about how he could have studied Law at that Eaten place. As if Hogwarts is some sort of come down from a stupid Muggle school. He never did know when to stop talking."  
  
It had been a long time since Harry had felt like this, so long he'd almost forgotten he could, that burning need that made his fists clench without his consent, that intense need to pound Draco Malfoy into the ground, to just make him shut up. Only now it wasn't that Harry thought he deserved it, although he probably did, it was that he just couldn't bear to hear the words coming out of Draco's mouth. He wanted to stop them, with his fists, before they ruined everything.  
  
Before he could Sirius said sharply, "That's enough, Draco!"  
  
Draco shrugged and obeyed, giving the impression he'd simply finished with what he had to say and going back to sit in front of his half-eaten dinner.  
  
"Let me go and find out what's happening, okay?" Sirius said soothingly. "I won't be long. Did you eat dinner yet?"  
  
Harry shook his head, still glaring at Draco.  
  
"You can finish mine if you like. I'll be back soon."  
  
Sirius left the room and Harry walked over to the table where Draco was eating his dinner slowly and methodically, his cheeks were slightly flushed. Harry sat down. "Sometimes," he said finally. Draco did not look up. "I think I don't know you at all, or maybe it's that I know you too well only I'd temporarily forgotten who you are. How can you..." he broke off, lost for words.  
  
Draco put down his knife and fork and finished the mouthful he was chewing before he looked up. "How can I what?" he asked.  
  
Harry stared at him, clenching and unclenching his fists. "How can you care so much about... some people, be so... so understanding... and then just cast aside everyone else like they don't even matter?"  
  
Draco just looked at him for a moment, as if trying to figure something out. "No wonder you find it so hard to handle things," Draco finally answered softly. "You can't care about everyone, Harry, or you'll be ripped apart by them."  
  
"That could have been us instead of Justin!"  
  
"But it wasn't and I won't regret that."  
  
"But you must feel something," Harry protested.  
  
"Why? You're only torturing yourself about it because you feel guilty. I don't feel guilty. This isn't my fault and I won't pretend it is," his voice rose slightly in annoyance.  
  
"So it's not cause Justin's a Mudblood then?" asked Harry accusingly.  
  
"No," said Draco coldly. "It's not."  
  
"Yeah, right," muttered Harry.  
  
"This is ridiculous," spat Draco, standing up. "Is this what you came here for? To pick a fight so you could feel suitably punished, ease the pointless guilt a little by ripping another hole in our relationship? Or perhaps you're hoping the inspectors will drop by for one last visit and you can sacrifice yourself to them?"  
  
"Shut up! That's not why I came here. I came here because I was upset and I missed you!" Harry spat at him.  
  
Draco stared at him, thin lipped, his eyes sparking dangerously.  
  
They watched each other, wary like cornered animals, each waiting for the next blow.  
  
Draco drew back first, always more in control than Harry ever could be. "I missed you too," he said, but it was cold and throwaway, as if it were irrelevant or maybe even distasteful.  
  
Harry found he didn't want to hit Draco very much any more. "Did you?" he asked in a small voice.  
  
"Of course I did," Draco snapped back. "Gods, you're such an idiot!" In several quick paces he stood before Harry and grabbed him by the chin. "One of these days..." he muttered, swiping a thumb over Harry's lips roughly.  
  
Before Harry could ask what he was thinking Draco was kissing him forcefully, turning him around as he did so and pushing him back towards the bed. Harry let himself be pushed.  
  
They were still in a tangle on the bed some time later when they heard the door open and a loud spluttering cough, they were still clothed but hardly respectable. Harry pushed at Draco to roll off him and when he did he saw Sirius closing the door while staring subtly at the ceiling. "Can I look yet?" he asked grumpily.  
  
"Yes," Harry stammered. "Yes, sorry."  
  
Sirius gave a short shrug. "Well, you were right about Finch-Fletchley."  
  
"He's been expelled?" Draco asked.  
  
"Not quite, suspended pending some sort of hearing. Seems one of the boys in his dorm said he'd made improper suggestions or something."  
  
"Smith!" said Harry. "That sneaky little bastard."  
  
"I spoke to Dumbledore and he seems to think that it'll all be sorted out at the hearing."  
  
"See, Finch-Fletchley will be fine," said Draco.  
  
"Are the lnspectors still here?"  
  
"No, Dumbledore personally saw them to the gate before dinner. Professor Sprout went with them to take Justin home."  
  
"When's his hearing?"  
  
"No date yet, hopefully before Christmas."  
  
"Do you think... "  
  
"What?"  
  
"Do you think he'll be all right?"  
  
"I don't know Harry, but I don't see why not. I'm sure it'll all blow over."  
  
"Won't Smith have to testify," said Draco thoughtfully. "Or will what he's said already be enough?"  
  
"He'd have to make his accusation in front of the School Board for it to be official," answered Sirius. "But I really don't think you should get involved, either of you."  
  
"We don't know for sure it was him," added Harry. "But I bet we could find out."  
  
"And then what?"  
  
"We'll think of something," said Harry grimly.  
  
"Harry..." protested Sirius.  
  
"I got Justin into this, it's only right that I do what I can to get him out again."  
  
"This isn't your fault."  
  
"I wouldn't bother, you should know by now that everything is somehow Harry Potter's fault." noted Draco.  
  
Harry scowled but didn't disagree.  
  
After dinner Ron and Hermione showed up and Harry brought them up to date.  
  
"Then all we need to do is find out who it was that got him in trouble and make sure they change their minds about what happened," said Hermione blithely.  
  
"Make sure?" said Ron.  
  
"Exactly," said Hermione with feeling.  
  
Ron made an expression Harry couldn't quite decipher, it was either fear or lust... or possibly both.  
  
  
\--  
**Saturday 8th November**

Harry was woken by banging on the door in the middle of the night. He sat up in panic, feeling for his wand and glasses.

Draco switched the light on. "Who's there?" he called.

"We need to speak to Harry."  
  
"We know he's in there."  
  
Draco looked at him in silent question. It was the twins.  
  
"Hold on!" shouted Harry, finding his glasses and putting on his dressing gown.  
  
He opened the door. "What is it? Has something happened?"  
  
"Something's about to happen more like," said George. "Is there anything about tomorrow that strikes a bell?"  
  
"Tomorrow?" said Harry.  
  
"Tomorrow afternoon specifically," added Fred. "Anything at all? Maybe involving a broomstick?"  
  
"Broomstick... The match!"  
  
"Is there a Quidditch match tomorrow?" said Fred.  
  
"Fancy that," replied George. "I wonder who's playing."  
  
"You woke me up in the middle of the night to remind me there's a Quidditch match on Sunday?"  
  
"We woke you up at 7am to remind you we had a practice session that started half an hour ago."  
  
"Shit, I'm sorry. I..."  
  
"Forgot," finished Fred.  
  
"We may not be as strict as Oliver."  
  
"But we do still prefer that our players remember they're on the team."  
  
"I do. Just give me ten," he remembered his quidditch kit was up in Gryffindor tower. "Fifteen minutes and I'll be right out."  
  
"The question is..."  
  
"Do you really want to play?"  
  
"Or would you rather expend your energy elsewhere?"  
  
Harry blushed angrily. "I want to play. You know I'm still better than Fisher, even out of practice."  
  
"We know that."  
  
"But as they say, it's not just about the winning..."  
  
"It's about the taking part."  
  
"Though you better not tell Oliver we said that."  
  
"I want to play!" Harry protested.  
  
"Excuse me," complained Draco from the bed. "Can we have this discussion elsewhere. Some of us have no reason to be awake yet."  
  
"Sorry," said Harry again. "We're just going." He stuck his feet in his shoes and pushed the twins towards the door. "Go back to sleep, I'll see you later."  
  
\---  
  
Once Harry persuaded the twins he was completely and one hundred percent on board, with the assistance of his substitute who had serious stage fright at the thought of filling Harry's shoes, the practice session went well.  
  
He arrived back into school in time for lunch with bright eyes and chapped lips. The team sat together, aside from Fred and George who were quietly discussing the performance at the end of the table in relative privacy.  
  
It wasn't until after lunch when Hermione approached that he gave Justin a second thought.  
  
"I spoke to Leanne this morning," she told him. "It took a bit of work but she finally admitted that everyone in their house is sure it was Smith. Apparently he's the only one aside from Justin that spoke to the inspectors personally and he's been very coy about what he said to them."  
  
"What do you think we should do?"  
  
"We could tell him we'll hex him if he testifies," suggested Ron.  
  
"I think we... or rather I, should just talk to him first. Find out what he said and why. Let me deal with it for now, there's no rush until they announce the date of Justin's trial."  
  
With that Harry relaxed again. Hermione would fix it. "Great," he said.  
  
  
\---  
**Sunday 9th Nov**  
  
Draco got up with Harry on the morning of the match. He seemed a bit reserved and Harry wondered if he didn't miss playing Quidditch considerably more than he let on.  
  
"Will you sit in the Gryffindor stands with Ron and Hermione?" he asked.  
  
"I'll watch from here."  
  
"What?"  
  
"There will be too many people at the match for me to be safe. Professor Snape and I discussed it yesterday. I can watch using a skrying bowl."  
  
"But I want you to come," Harry moaned before he thought about how incredibly childish he sounded.  
  
Draco didn't deign to reply.  
  
"Sorry. I just meant..."  
  
"I know. I'll still be watching though.”  
  
\---  
  
The Hufflepuff team was unusually sullen as they trooped onto the pitch, their dark looks almost worthy of Slytherin status. Harry again felt the stab of guilt.  
  
But however much their demeanour might suggest it, they couldn't transform their resentment into focus on the pitch. Instead they were distracted and prone to poor judgement.  
  
Harry would never have expected Justin's situation would affect his whole house so much. When he caught sight of the snitch hovering placidly near the ground he almost let it go. But in the end he was too loyal to his own team to do it, and he would never have wanted anyone else to throw a match for him.  
  
But the victory was cheap and he felt slightly nauseous as the air vibrated with Gryffindor cheering.  
  
As he came off the pitch he voiced his thoughts to George.    
  
"I had no idea Justin was so popular, even the 6th years looked... I dunno..."  
  
"Ah," said George. "You see Finch-Fletchley was rather the Hufflefpuff team mascot you might say."  
  
Harry looked confused.  
  
"He had a bit of a thing for one of their Chasers, Jacobs, so he used to hang around with the team a lot. Run errands, organise parties, design banners. The team used to call him their good luck fairy."  
  
"Oh," said Harry.  
  
"There's no point worrying about it now. Chin up, we'd have beaten them anyway."  
  
Harry wasn't so sure, he wasn't exactly in top condition.  
  
"We're off to meet Dad, you could come too if you like. Dinner in Hogsmeade."  
  
"No thanks," said Harry. "I've got homework."  
  
"All right then, we'll tell Dad you said hi."  
  
"Yeah, okay."  
  
\--  
  
Harry wandered back to the castle wondering if he should have gone with the twins. He hadn't seen Mr Weasley since he'd stayed at the Burrow with Draco. Less than a month ago... it seemed longer. It would be nice to sit with the Weasleys and pretend everything was the same as it had been in the past, when Quidditch and chocolate frog cards had been his biggest passions. But what were the chances that everyone else would play let's pretend just because he wanted to. He kicked at a stone and missed.  
  
It turned out Ron was off to Hogsmeade to see his Dad too and although Hermione congratulated him warmly on winning the match she couldn't persuade him to come back to the common room. He felt too bad about Hufflepuff's distracted mood to want to celebrate the win and he excused himself to go see Draco.  
  
When he arrived back at Draco's room the door was answered by Sirius. “Harry, great game.”  
  
“I guess.” He wandered in and realised Draco wasn't there. “Where's Draco, why aren't you....”  
  
“He's gone up to speak to the Headmaster, Harry.”  
  
“What? What for?”  
  
“I don't know, Snape came and took him just after the game finished. Not like he's going to tell me anything! But I'm sure Draco will when he gets back.”  
  
Harry wandered over to the window, unsatisfied with the answer but not seeing any way to get a better one. “Are you two getting on okay?” he asked.  
  
“Me and Snape, I hardly think so.”  
  
“No, I meant you and Draco.”  
  
“Oh, right. I suppose so...  
  
–  
  
As they approached the Headmaster's office, Snape slowed and turned to him. “Before we go up, you should know that your mother is here.”  
  
Draco froze. “My mother...” He couldn't decide whether to be excited or panicked. When his mother had written back to him about Christmas and said she would come to the school he hadn't been sure she really would. He hadn't known what to think, he still didn't know where his mother stood. She had never been political, he had never seen her in the same room as Voldemort. But just because the Aurors had let her go didn't mean...  
  
“Are you all right?” asked Snape.  
  
“Is she... is it... safe?”  
  
Snape took him by the shoulders. “The Headmaster and I will not leave you alone with her. We thought it best not to refuse her wish to speak to you. The Aurors have been keeping an eye on her and seem to think she has had no contact with your father. And with no evidence of any wrong doing she still has every right to see you.”  
  
Draco nodded.  
  
“Are you ready to go up?”  
  
“All right.”  
  
With trepidation and a dry mouth Draco followed Snape up the magical staircase to the Headmaster's office. He hadn't seen his mother since she had taken him to the train station at the start of the term. The summer had put a strain on their previously close relationship, too much not being said between them, too many uncertainties.  
  
Why did she want him home for Christmas so much? Did she miss him? Was she angry that he had betrayed his father? Her letters had been short, unclear. He felt like he was going upstairs to confront a stranger and not the mother had had loved and trusted his entire life.  
  
By the time Snape was opening the door he felt light headed and his hands were trembling.  
  
His mother was sitting in a chair as he came through the door, but she stood smiling as she saw him. “Draco!” she began to sweep towards him and he was flooded with panic, visceral memories of that moment of terror and confusion in their safe room when the dark figure had appeared in the corner, he stumbled backwards without thinking, grabbing for Snape's robes in panic.  
  
His mother faltered, her face falling. She stopped moving half way across the room, her hands still extended towards him.  
  
Feeling like a child, his face suddenly hot with embarrassment, Draco tried to make himself let go of his Head of Houses robes. But his fingers had a mind of their own and would not relax from their death grip.  
  
“Mother,” he said stiffly, his voice cracking.  
  
“Draco?” she said again.  
  
Dumbledore came forward then. “Mrs Malfoy,” he said softly, coming to her side. “Perhaps now you will acknowledge that things are not so simple as a son going home to his family for Christmas.”  
  
“I...” Narcissa sounded shaken. “I need to talk to my son.”  
  
“Draco?” asked Professor Dumbledore.  
  
Draco forced air into his lungs slowly. “Mother,” he repeated, more softly this time. “I... I'm sorry. I don't know if I can...”  
  
Narcissa had collected herself. “There are things I need to explain, I see. I would prefer to do so in privacy,” she said quietly.  
  
“I... understand. But that's not going to be possible. I.... I love you. But how can I be sure that father didn't send you here?”  
  
Narcissa was silent for a long while, thoughtful. And then she seemed to make up her mind. “Your father and I have not spoken, as I have told your Headmaster, as I have told the Aurors, and as I am sure they are well aware is true given that they are still rather obtrusively watching my house and following me around where ever I go.” She fixed him with a firm gaze. “I am not and never have been a Death Eater and have no desire whatsoever to be one. Your father and I do not agree on everything. Pure-bloods have no need to be petty terrorists nor to bend the knee before anyone.”  
  
Draco bit his lip. “I didn't notice you being so opinionated about matters this summer,” he said calmly but firmly as his heart attempted to beat it's way out of his chest.  
  
Narcissa looked down. “Malfoy Manor is your father's house,” she said quietly. “It may also have been my home but as the head of the Malfoy family it was his right to use the house however he saw fit. With out interference from me.”  
  
“And what about me? Did it matter to you at all that I was to … to bend the knee and become a petty terrorist?”  
  
“Draco … I am at a loss as to what to say.” Her expression was uncertain. “You had grown up to be so like your father...”  
  
Draco felt his face crack and saw his mother respond to it.  
  
“Or so I thought... I.... this is not a conversation to be had in public,” she said in frustration.  
  
“We're not in public,” Draco pointed out. “Professor Snape is my Head of House and if it wasn't for him and Professor Dumbledore protecting me I'd likely be dead already.”  
  
Narcissa pulled herself together. “I am of course very thankful to the school for looking after you, but Draco this is not my doing. I am your Mother, how could I ever help to harm you in any way.”  
  
Draco suddenly felt very cold. He loved his mother, she had been his safe place always. Always until this summer when she had disappeared into her rooms and left him to fend for himself. The little boy he'd been before then was gone, completely and utterly gone. She was no safe place to the person he was now. And he didn't want to be here any more.  
  
“I'm afraid I have nothing else to say, I'm going back to my room now,” he said stiffly and turned to go.  
  
“Draco, I forbid...” he didn't hear the rest of what she said because he had walked out the door and closed it behind him. The stairs carried him away and no one followed him until he was nearly at the bottom.  
  
Someone hurried down the moving stairs to catch up with him. He thought about trying to get away before they caught up, but before he could make a decision he realised the person following him was Snape.  
  
They exited the bottom door together and Snape halted him with a hand on his shoulder. “That may not have been wise.”  
  
“I don't care.” He pulled away and kept moving. He wasn't sure if his mother had floo'd in or not and he wanted to be well gone in case she came down the stairs. “I just... I can't deal with this yet. She doesn't understand.”  
  
“You could...”  
  
Draco broke in before he could finish, “What?! Tell her? Tell her! Which part should I start with do you think, which...” he broke off gasping, covering his mouth.  
  
Snape glanced around then awkwardly gathered him up. Draco wrapped his fists into Snape's robe again and clung on, hiding his face. “Let's get out of the corridors,” said Snape, patting him stiffly on the back.  
  
–  
  
Harry and Sirius were playing gin rummy to pass the time, with an old pack of cards Sirius had in his pocket. The cards were just like muggle playing cards except that the face cards made suggestions and insulted rival suits and the backs had moving pictures of motorbikes on them. Unfortunately Harry seemed to know the game with different rules than Sirius so they kept disagreeing on what did and didn't count.  
  
When Snape and Draco arrived back Harry was more than glad to ditch his hand and have done with it.  
  
“You're back!”  
  
Harry stood up as Sirius and Snape glowered at each other much like he and Draco would have done a year ago.  
  
“Black.”  
  
“Snape.”  
  
But rather than leave Snape hovered in the door way looking to Draco.  
  
Draco looked pale and fragile. He looked back at Snape, then over at Sirius.  
  
“If you don't mind, Black. I believe Draco could do with a little privacy.”  
  
Sirius hesitated, then gathered his cards up in one sweep of his hand, sorting them into a pile as he stood and stuffing them back in his pocket. At the door he hesitated and looked back at Harry, questioning.  
  
“I'll maybe see you later,” said Harry non-committally.  
  
“Right,” said Sirius and left the room.  
  
Once he was gone Draco seemed to relax infinitesimally. Harry thought he should maybe be sad that Draco wasn't entirely comfortable around Sirius, but then he had to admit to himself that he wasn't always either. He just didn't know him well enough yet, no matter how much he considered him to be family.  
  
“Do you want me to go too?” Snape asked, in a surprisingly gentle tone.  
  
Draco didn't answer immediately. “Yes, I'll be all right. But... thank you.”  
  
“Very well. Let me know if you need me, for any thing.”  
  
Draco nodded and Snape left, closing the door.  
  
When the door shut Harry came over to Draco and laid a hand on his arm. “Sirius said you went to see the Headmaster, is something wrong?”  
  
Draco shivered and then rubbed his face. “I missed the end of the game.”  
  
“Oh, it doesn't matter.  It was an awful game anyway.”  
  
“Thought you were winning?”  
  
“We did. I just meant, the Hufflepuffs were in no shape to play us. Why are you changing the subject?”  
  
“Sorry.” Draco pulled away and went to sit on the bed. “I had to see the Headmaster because my Mother is here.”  
  
“What?” Harry gasped. “Here, here? In the castle here?”  
  
Draco nodded. “She said she would come, I wasn't sure she would though.”  
  
“You saw her?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
Harry climbed onto the bed and wrapped himself around Draco, settling the other boy in against his chest. “What happened?”  
  
Draco shrugged just enough to be felt. “I didn't stay very long. I couldn't... I can't risk that she might be working with... them.”  
  
“What did she want?”  
  
“She wants me to go home for Yule, but I'm staying here. So really there's nothing to talk about.”  
  
–  
  
Snape returned to Dumbledore's office rather than going to his own quarters. He wanted to find out how Narcissa had reacted to Draco's leaving.  
  
The Headmaster was alone when he entered. “Severus, Draco is safely back in his room then?”  
  
Snape nodded and took a seat. “How did things go after we left?”  
  
Dumbledore paused thoughtfully. “Leaving was... not the ideal choice. Although the boy has been through a lot, I can understand his reticence.”  
  
“The last few months have been more stress than the boy can deal with, I'm worried about him.”  
  
“As are we all. And it is not over I'm afraid. Narcissa made her intentions clear before she left, she will take up the issue of the winter holidays with the school governors.”  
  
“As if we don't have enough to deal with on that front with this ridiculous suspension hearing.”  
  
Dumbledore inclined his head. “I am less worried about the suspension, in fact I am almost certain I can get that overturned. But Draco's mother... she has taken over Lucius Malfoy's board position and she is a woman of great determination. I almost feel sorry for her, that she is having to fight to see her own son. I am almost certain she is not working with Lord Voldemort.”  
  
“Almost is not certain enough, and even if she is as innocent as she claims the risk would still be too great. Not to mention that if she is innocent of direct involvement she is still guilty of child endangerment and neglect of parental responsibility. And it is beyond reckless of her to consider taking Draco out of the safety of Hogwarts while his life is on the line.”  
  
“I am working on Mr Finch-Fletchley's case with Pomona, would you like to take the lead on our defence of Mr Malfoy's decision?”  
  
“I would be happy to do the work, but perhaps a different spokesman might be... preferred.”  
  
“You are his Head of House.”  
  
Snape sighed. “After Pettigrew's trial it will be widely known that I was once more working for Voldemort, even if it was as a spy. You know I have to testify honestly if we want to prove the Dark Lord has truly returned.”  
  
“I suppose the trial really does take precedence at the moment, the next Governor's Meeting is not until the 1st of December. We will decide who will speak for Draco once the trial is past.”  
  
“In the mean time, I'm worried about Draco's safety. You know as well as I do that the spellwork we placed on his room is not infallible. I doubt any students could break it, or at least not quickly and quietly enough to actually achieve anything before they were caught, but a competent adult could get around it. And Pettigrew told me himself they have another agent specifically looking to deal with Draco Malfoy.”  
  
“Yes, but who that is remains a mystery. Someone within the school seems unlikely but alas, not impossible. We have been fooled before... more times than I like to think about.”  
  
“And then there are the students themselves.”  
  
“I have called a full staff meeting for tomorrow evening. We will discuss our next move there.”  
  
“Is that wise, without knowing who we can trust?”  
  
“It may not be wise, but it is honest. If Lord Voldemort  is about to be brought into the open by Peter Pettigrew's trial then we must draw some lines of our own.”

 


	15. The Wheat from the Chaff

**Mon 10th November**

  
After dinner the teachers gathered in the Headmaster's office rather than the staff room. With a full staff complement of twenty one plus the Headmaster it was a very full room. The prefects had been left in charge of the evening detentions to allow everyone to attend. Dumbledore entered and sat at his desk with Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape to either side of him.  
  
He caught everyone's attention with a sharp rap on his desk and the noise died down. “Good evening to you all. Thank you very much for making time for this rather unusual staff meeting,” he began. “As I'm sure you all know we have had certain issues with student safety over the last few weeks.”  
  
There was a general mutter of agreement and discontent across the room.  
  
“But I have brought you here this evening to discuss something larger than the safety of individual students. In less than two weeks there will be a trial at which several of us will be testifying. It is my great hope that by the end of this trial it will be unavoidably obvious to the Ministry and the wizarding public that the threat of Lord Voldemort's return is not a tall tale, but an immediate and pressing fact.”  
  
A few of the less integrated teachers looked rather startled at this. The gossip train didn't always include newer teachers, or less popular ones like Professor Trelawney, who muttered something about having known that doom was upon them.  
  
“But whatever may happen in the next month, I am determined to make this school a safe haven from Lord Voldemort's influence. Our primary goal is to educate and safeguard our students and that means protecting them from the influence of those who would twist wizarding society into something dark and dangerous. This school will always accept the muggleborn, it will always teach respect and understanding for those who are different and it will not countenance prejudice in any way.”  
  
“And how exactly do you propose to police the thoughts of the student body, or indeed even of those of us here right now?” questioned Professor Whig, who taught politics and law.  
  
“I would not wish to interfere with the insides of anyone's mind, Podrick,” replied Professor Dumbledore. “It is their words and actions I am more concerned with. And so I ask you as a body, how best can we bring out these words and actions? We must know the intentions of our students. And I must know the true intentions of my staff. I would like to say that you all have my utmost trust, would like to but alas, I cannot. For we have been fooled before, and more than once, I am afraid to say. Twice in the recent past we have had agents of Lord Voldemort find positions among the staff here at the school, and so it falls to me now to require something more of you than promises.”  
  
“And what exactly would that be,” asked Professor Sinistra calmly.  
  
“That you must tell me. Will you prove your intentions are true, and if so, how will you do it. I can ask you, but I cannot command you, I can only regretfully tell you that those who cannot do so will be asked to leave the school.”  
  
“So we must choose the form of our own destruction,” noted Professor Flitwick with wry amusement. “Or leave in dishonour.”  
  
“It is no dishonour to choose to go another way,” replied Dumbledore. “I would regret deeply losing any of you, but I would not make assumptions as to what your reasoning may be for refusing such a challenge. I am asking a great deal.”  
  
“Oh this is ridiculous, can we just get on with things?” said Madame Hooch rolling her eyes at  Flitwick and Dumbledore. “You men, always making things into some big dramatic sacrifice. I'll happily take Veritaserum and answer whatever questions you want if it means we can just get on! I have nothing to hide.”  
  
“Thank you, Rolanda,” said Dumbledore. “As it happens I believe Severus has brought some with him.”  
  
“Well fancy that,” she said, standing up. “Come on then.”  
  
After a quick wave of his wand to check she had not recently ingested the antidote, Snape dripped three precise drops of veritaserum onto her tongue and then they waited a moment for it to take effect. Shaking her head a little she nodded at Dumbledore, but he looked to Severus and it was he who questioned her in his quiet, hypnotic voice.  
  
“Please try to lie. What is your name?”  
  
Her lips moved to try and form another shape but no sound came out, she struggled a moment, then said, “Rolanda Barbara Hooch.”  
  
Snape nodded and continued, the room was very quiet, “Have you been in communication with Lord Voldemort in any way?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Have you been in communication with any Death Eater or person you suspect of being a Death Eater or of being in communication with a Death Eater?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
There was a gasp.  
  
Snape frowned, realising the question was too vague. “Have you been in communication with anyone for the purpose of assisting Lord Voldemort or any of his Death Eaters or of passing information to Lord Voldemort or one of his Death Eaters?”  
  
“No.”  
  
Snape referred to a notebook on the desk by his side. “Do you suspect anyone in the school, student or staff or visitor, of being a Death Eater or working for the Death Eaters or Lord Voldemort and if you do what are their names?”  
  
There was a mutter from Professor Whig at this question, something about 'unfounded accusations'.  
  
“Severus Snape,” said Madame Hooch, and Snape made a wry face. “Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle...” Madame Hooch went on to list an uncomfortably large number of students, mostly older and mostly Slytherin, but not all by any means. She did not mention any other teachers. At a flick of Snape's wand a quill wrote the names down as she spoke them.  
  
When she had finished the questions resumed. “Do you intend to attempt any harm to Draco Malfoy?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Have you been asked by anyone to harm Draco Malfoy, and if so by whom?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“In the last year have you had any black outs or memory losses or experienced any unexplained phenomenon which might suggest your actions or memory have been tampered with?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Do you believe Lord Voldemort has returned?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Would you like to make any statement of your beliefs or intentions while under veritaserum, if so please do so.”  
  
“I would like to state that I believe muggleborn wizards and those with muggles in their family lines have as much right to be here as so called purebloods. I would like to state that Lord Voldemort is a power crazed maniac and I have no interest in helping him in any way. And I would like to say that Justin Finch-Fletchley being suspended is an outrage and the Ministry as it stands is an embarrassment. Am I done?”  
  
“Yes, Rolanda. Thank you,” said Dumbledore.  
  
Snape passed her a small shot glass of antidote and she turned to the room, “Well, who's next then.”  
  
“Before anyone else steps up I must insist we know what will be done with this list of suspected Death Eaters,” said Professor Whig. “I will not be party to an inquisition of innocents, accused by no more than suspicion.”  
  
“The list is simply a place to start,” replied Dumbledore. “And we must start. No one will be accused, no one will be punished. But there can be no doubt that there are students whose loyalties are with Lord Voldemort. Two of them have already been expelled for attacking Mr Malfoy and we have no idea if they were the ones who poisoned him or if that was yet another assailant. We must begin to clear Hogwarts of those whose loyalties create a clear and present danger to the other students. And more than that, there comes a time when a strong stance must be taken for the sake of the future.”  
  
"I agree," said McGonagall. "We can no longer go on as we have, Death Eaters have been present on the very borders of the school grounds, students lives are at risk."  
  
"Then you are suggesting expelling students for their beliefs?" asked Professor Whig.  
  
“Expulsion is a very serious step,” said Dumbledore.  
  
"We have the safety of the majority of students to consider," McGonagall pointed out. “And the safety of our own plans. The Ministry may refuse to believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, but we do not have the luxury. And we have already lost our only real avenue of information,” she finished, inclining her head towards Snape.  
  
"We have no evidence that spies within Hogwarts betrayed Severus," replied Professor Flitwick.  
  
"We have no reason to assume they didn't," she responded.  
  
"Look never mind what we're going to do with any students that seem to be... untrustworthy. Isn't the point here how we're going to figure that out?" pointed out Madame Hooch.  
  
“Indeed,” said Snape. “But before we discuss the student body and how best to fairly judge them, we must finish what we have begun here.”  
  
“Fine,” muttered Professor Whig. “I'll go next, but I do not acquiesce to listing names of suspected Death Eaters, my opinion is nothing but an opinion and I will not have it written down and used against anyone.”  
  
Snape looked to Dumbledore and the Headmaster nodded his agreement to the terms.  
  
Aside from that, Professor Whig answered the same questions as Madame Hooch and when asked if he wished to make a statement simply said, “My loyalties lie with the students of this school, all of them. I would never harm them or by my inaction allow them to be harmed. I have nothing else to say.”  
  
After that all the other Professors passed through the same process one by one until only McGonagall and Snape, Professor Flitwick, Hagrid, Argus Filch, and Professor Hartlebury remained untested. Dumbledore looked over the silent room.  
  
“Veritaserum don' work on me same way I don' think,” said Hagrid awkwardly. “Bein' as... well, you know.”  
  
Professor Flitwick stood up, “And I'm afraid, as I believe the school records show, I am unable to take any potion containing clove, as I am allergic.” Madame Pomfrey nodded in agreement. “However I am willing to submit to Legilimency or to take an Unbreakable Vow if need be.”  
  
“Oh yeah, me too,” added Hagrid.  
  
“Legilimency can be blocked by one skilled in Occlumency,” noted Snape.  
  
“And veritaserum can be resisted in the same way,” added Professor Whig.  
  
“It can,” said Snape.  “An Unbreakable Vow is the only true test, being the only test which will kill the person who attempts to circumvent it.”  
  
“Then what has this charade even been for?” snapped Professor Megistus, the Magical Theory and Spell Creation professor. “Any stooge of You-Know-Who would surely have to be an accomplished Occlumens to have made it onto the staff in the first place!”  
  
“True, but it takes forewarning to prepare for veritaserum, even for an accomplished Occlumens. Time to prepare. I know what to watch for, as does the Headmaster,” noted Snape. “You have waited a very long time to step up, Professor Hartlebury.”  
  
“What exactly are you insinuating,” bristled Professor Hartlebury.  
  
“You know very well what I am insinuating, Professor.”  
  
Hartlebury stood up angrily, “So I suppose you expect me to agree to an Unbreakable Vow then? This entire thing is a disgrace. I don't see you being in much of a hurry to prove your loyalty, Snape?”  
  
“As an accomplished Occlumens, and the only one who knew in advance we would be using veritaserum, I agreed in advance with the Headmaster that an Unbreakable Vow would be the only way to prove my loyalty.”  
  
“In fact, I told Severus that in his case it would not be necessary, as he has my utmost trust, but he insisted that he be treated the same as any other staff member,” added Dumbledore. “We have already framed out a suitable wording, perhaps Filius might like to use the same?”  
  
“I'm sure that would be fine,” said Professor Flitwick. “May I see it?”  
  
Snape stood up and Dumbledore followed him. “Minerva,” he asked. “If you could be our Bonder?”  
  
“Of course,” McGonagall came over and took out her wand. Snape and Dumbledore clasped together their right hands and Professor McGonagall touched her wand to them. With each statement and response their hands were bound in fire.  
  
“Do you, Severus Snape, swear that as of this date and until I release you of this oath you will be loyal to this school and it's current students and never intentionally cause them serious harm?” Dumbledore asked.  
  
“I do.”  
  
“Do you, Severus Snape, swear that as of this date and until I release you from this oath you will not do anything to directly or indirectly assist or aide Lord Voldemort unless I expressly order you to do so?”  
  
“I do.”  
  
“Do you, Severus Snape, swear that as of this date and until I release you from this oath that should you suspect your actions or memory have been tampered with you will inform me or Professor McGonagall as soon as you are able?”  
  
“I do.”  
  
Dumbledore nodded to McGonagall and she stepped back allowing the men to release their hands.  
  
“Is there anything objectionable there?” Snape asked with a challenging gleam in his eye.  
  
Professor Hartlebury said nothing but still looked uneasy as first Professor Flitwick, then Hagrid, and finally Professor McGonagall took the Unbreakable Vow with the Headmaster. Now only Filch and Professor Hartlebury remained.  
  
“I'll take the veritaserum,” Filch scowled. “You all know I can't do that Oklmancy thing anyway.”  
  
Snape inclined his head in agreement and soon it was only Professor Hartlebury left.  
  
“Will you take the oath, David?” asked Dumbledore.  
  
Professor Hartlebury looked frustrated. “You have to understand...” he began. He shook his head in exasperation. Finally he said, “I know that many of you will think the worst of me for refusing this, and that saddens me deeply. I have enjoyed my short time here at the school, but this is not... this is not what I signed on for. It's too much, I'm sorry. But I have to resign my position.”  
  
There were murmurs and narrowed eyes, and Snape even surreptitiously drew his wand out of his pocket, but Dumbledore only nodded his head in understanding.  
  
“I accept your resignation, and I apologise for the fact that I will have to ask that Professor McGonagall and Professor Whig escort you to your quarters to help you pack and escort you to the gates of the school.”  
  
Professor Hartlebury flushed red, but did not argue the point. “I had heard this position was cursed,” he said wryly. “I did not put any weight to it, but perhaps I was mistaken there. Well, goodbye then.”  
  
After he left the room with his escort, Snape turned to Dumbledore. “You will let him just leave?”  
  
“I do not believe David is working with Lord Voldemort,” replied Professor Dumbledore. “But equally he is not fully with us. It is better that he leaves now, but I see no need to take any action against him.”  
  
Snape sniffed and sat down, putting his wand away as quietly as he had taken it out.  
  
“What about the rest of us?” asked Professor Vector. “He was right when he said veritaserum isn't foolproof, are you really confident that none of us managed to get around it?”  
  
“Anyone who wishes to take the Unbreakable Oath as well may do so, but I do not require it,” said Dumbledore. “I am confident enough in the veritaserum, Severus brewed it freshly for us and I tested it myself. Although I was able to lie under it's influence it was only with a great deal of effort and the lies were weak and easily discerned.” He smiled. “Anyone?”  
  
There were some shrugs and mumbles.  
  
“Very well, then we must proceed with the next issue. The students.”  
  
“Shouldn't we wait for Minerva and Podrick?” asked Professor Sprout.  
  
“I have already discussed the issue at some length with Professor McGonagall, but I shall be sure to run anything we come up with by both of them before anything is implemented. Although I suspect with the time it may take to come to some conclusion, they will be back before we are close to finished.”  
  
And Dumbledore was quite right there, debate ranged back and forward among the teachers for over an hour and by the time Professor McGonagall and Professor Whig returned they were still nowhere near a solution and tempers were becoming dangerously frayed.  
  
“I think it's time we took a break,” Dumbledore declared as they arrived back. He rapped on his desk for the house elves to bring tea.  
  
“Could do with some of the harder stuff, myself,” muttered Madame Hooch.  
  
“I think alcohol is the last thing we need right now,” noted Madame Pomfrey.  
  
McGonagall sat down and poured herself a cup, “Any good ideas yet?”  
  
“Pah,” spat Snape in general irritation at the whole thing.  
  
“I see,” she replied.  
  
“Actually,” said a quiet voice. “I have one thought, if you don't mind?”  
  
“What is it, Charity?” asked McGonagall kindly.  
  
“It's a muggle thing, actually. Quite popular in some of their more affluent schools.” Charity Burbage was the Muggle Studies professor. “It's called a Debate Club.”  
  
The others looked puzzled.  
  
“How would that work?” asked Professor Sinistra.  
  
“Well, you see, you set topics and groups of students have to argue each side in front of the whole school. I thought... it would get the discussion out in the open. Debate Clubs often choose current contentious issues...”  
  
“Given how limited our options are, it's not a half bad idea,” said Professor Flitwick.  
  
“I still think we should set up the corridor test,” said Madame Hooch. “It may not be infallible, but students are far less likely to have the wherewithal to circumvent it, especially if they don't know it's there.”  
  
“I don't like the idea of testing students against their will, it should be voluntary,” said Professor Babbling.  
  
“We already have a corridor set up for Mr Malfoy, we certainly didn't announce that we had warded it,” pointed out Professor Sinistra.  
  
“That's different, there's no reason for students to be in that corridor unless they're specifically going to Mr. Malfoy's room. Putting those spells on one of the main corridors would be tantamount to accusing the entire school of working for You Know Who,” replied Dana Threnody.  
  
And so the argument that had been going on for the last hour and twenty minutes continued, until Dumbledore called for silence once more.  
  
“We are simply repeating ourselves at this stage, I fear,” he said with a tired smile. “And I am afraid we will have to call it a night, especially as I will have to cover the Defence Against Dark Arts classes tomorrow, and at rather short notice.”  
  
“You, Headmaster?” said Hagrid, surprised.  
  
“Yes, for tomorrow at least, and most likely the week, until I can bring in a replacement. Madame Hooch, perhaps you and Professor Chiaroscuro could assist me by taking some of the first through third year classes where your schedule allows?” They agreed immediately. “And Charity, while we will look into other more specific options I would like you to go ahead with your Debate Club. Can I have another teacher volunteer to assist with it?”  
  
“I will,” said Professor Whig. “My students would benefit from something like that anyway.”  
  
“Excellent, then I bid you all a goodnight and I will see you in the morning.”  
  
The teachers filed out leaving Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape sat at the Headmaster's desk.  
  
They looked at one another in silence.  
  
“I think I can set up a variation on what we have, but it will need to be somewhere busy but innocuous,” said Snape.  
  
McGonagall shook her head. “It needs to let people through, or the students will notice. So it would have to be watched.”  
  
“I have already considered that,” said Dumbledore. “The entrances to the common rooms are already watched, and already have wards on them. The spellwork can simply be woven in to what is already there and the portraits can take note of anyone who sets off the alarm.”  
  
“And if we are not telling the other teachers?” said McGonagall. “How exactly are we going to deal with any students who fail the test?”  
  
“We will deal with them on a case by case basis. I will inform some of the other teachers individually, all of the House Heads will need to know and a few others whom we can trust to understand this decision.”  
  
McGonagall sighed. “Well, unless you need me further I think I could do with a good night's sleep.”  
  
“Thank you, Minerva. Severus and I will set the spells on the Slytherin common room tonight, the rest can wait until tomorrow.”  
  
She nodded and left them.  
  
Severus looked archly at the Headmaster, “Anyone would think you didn't trust my House, Albus,” he said.  
  
And they fell to discussing the exact form the new spellwork would take.  
  
  
\--  
**Tuesday 11th November**  
  
Harry had Tuesday mornings free, but Draco had double Psychology first thing so he ended up having to get up at the same time as usual anyway and he went to the Great Hall for breakfast, leaving Draco to eat alone. He liked to pretend to himself that he didn't want to spend all his time alone with Draco. It made him feel less ridiculous.  
  
The announcement came midway through breakfast. Dumbledore brought the room to attention, “I have an announcement to make, a bit of good news I hope. Two of our teachers have volunteered to set up a student debate club and I especially encourage our NEWT level students to consider signing up, but students of all ages are welcome. And for those of you doing Politics and Law with Professor Whig, participation will potentially lead to extra credit toward your final exam scores. Sign up sheets can be found outside the Great Hall along with dates of meetings and those dates will also be available on our common room notice boards. I look forward to the first debate, which will be held here in the Great Hall, with great excitement.” He sat down again.  
  
“Draco does politics,” he said to Hermione. “I'll have to let him know in case he wants to sign up.”  
  
“I take it too,” said Seamus. “So I suppose I better sign up, I'll probably need the extra marks to get my exam score up if I'm going to get an E. So some of you better sign up with me, I don't want to be on my own. How about you Hermione, bet you'd be great at it.”  
  
Hermione frowned at Seamus, “I can't imagine you'll be very good unless you've recently learned to think before you speak.” She still hadn't forgiven him for the newspaper article.  
  
It appeared he had learned something, since he didn't respond.  
  
“Who else does Politics in our year?” asked Hermione. “I wanted to but I couldn't fit it in, it's at the same time as Care of Magical Creatures.”  
  
Harry felt a bit guilty, he'd basically strong armed Hermione into taking Care of Magical Creatures with him and Ron to support Hagrid, and for moral support against whatever creatures Hagrid might come out with.  
  
“Just Pansy Parkinson and Just... well Justin was taking Politics. This suspension’s going to really make it hard for him to keep up in his classes, if he gets back,” Seamus answered.  
  
“Of course he'll get back,” said Hermione. “Dumbledore wouldn't let them keep him out! And you better hope everything works out since it's your fault he got suspended in the first place. Don't forget it could as well have been Harry that got suspended.”  
  
Seamus did look like he felt guilty and somewhat worried as to what Hermione might do to him if Justin didn't get reinstated.  
  
“I wonder if they've decided what the first debate could be,” mused Hermione. “Maybe we could debate the homophobia inherent in the wizarding legal system.”  
  
Harry rolled his eyes at Ron, sounded like Hermione was planning to get behind a new cause.  
  
But Ron was determined to stay in Hermione's good books. “You signing up then?” he asked her. “If you are I'll join up with you.”  
  
Hermione looked very pleased. “Well, that might be fun,” she said. “Harry, why don't you sign up too and we can all go together.”  
  
“Do I have to?”  
  
“Oh, come on, Draco will be there. What about the rest of you?”  
  
“Not me,” said Dean. “Between being reserve chaser and my art coursework and all our other homework I've got quite enough going on without adding something else.”  
  
“Me either,” said Parvati, who had been listening in. “Not really my thing and besides I'll bet Padma will want to sign up, we try not to do too many of the same things.”  
  
Ron looked bemused, Fred and George did everything together and he didn't understand the Patil twins burning need to be completely different. It was even rumoured this year that Fred and George were both dating Angelina Johnson, but he hadn't been able to get a straight answer out of either them about it.  
  
“Well then,” said Hermione. “Just put Harry, Ron and I down too then when you sign up, Seamus.”  
  
“Sure thing,” said Seamus.  
  
Harry sighed.  
  
–  
  
After breakfast was done and the first classes had started, Snape headed down to the Slytherin common room entrance. Although there was no painting guarding the entrance per se, there was a painting just across the hallway with a good enough line of sight. He stopped and after casting a charm on the painting he quietly conferred in Latin with a monk who normally wandered about in the background of the architectural landscape. The monk came to the edge of the painting and showed Snape a list of names he had been hiding under his robe. It was a longer list than Severus would have hoped, if he had been given much to hoping. As a general rule he preferred to assume the worst. He returned the monk to the background and set off for the Headmaster's office.  
  
–  
  
Albus looked over the list sadly. There were 60 Slytherins at the school, there had been 61 but Martin Stein had already been expelled for attacking Draco, and altogether there were 19 names on the list. Nearly one third of the house.  
  
“I suppose I might point out that had you asked the rest of the school, they would no doubt have expected more Slytherins to be allying themselves with the Dark Lord,” Snape said slightly bitterly.  
  
“Are these children allying themselves with the Dark Lord?” asked Dumbledore. “What exactly did you set the ward to determine?”  
  
“Partly the same as Draco's wards, but without the repulsing aspect. So any students with the intention to truly harm Draco Malfoy were recorded. But also any student with the intent to join the Death Eaters.”  
  
“A list that Draco Malfoy's name would have been upon only last year,” pointed out Dumbledore.  
  
“I am aware of the irony,” Snape replied.  “The monk will continue to keep a record, if a students intentions change it will be noted accordingly. That is... I presume you are not immediately intending to act upon this list?”  
  
“You presume correctly. I have requested that Charity and Podrick set the first debate topic as 'Supporting Death Eaters: criminal act or political choice'. The debate will be on Thursday the 20th after dinner.”  
  
Snape raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.  
  
“You will continue to monitor the list. I would also like you to feel out the older students on there, meet with them one to one if you can. Speak to Minerva, Filius and Pomona about trying to get to know them as well. You'll need to sort out the other common room wards with them anyway. I want each Head of House to take charge of any names they get in their House, but subtly. I don't want this going any further than the five of us for the time being.”  
  
“I would like to show Draco the list, and Black I suppose. Despite our security precautions I think it would be better if they had an idea who to be wary around.”  
  
“I suppose that would be all right, although I doubt Sirius will know the students well enough to identify many of them. But if they take a copy it must remain in Draco's room.”  
  
“I  will lock all copies with the tergiversatio charm, only the person they are given to will be able to read them.”  
  
“Very well. Thank you, Severus.”  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: The Hogwarts staff complement is as follows...
> 
> Headmaster – Albus Dumbledore  
> Transfiguration taught by Minerva McGonagall (Asst Headmistress and  
> Head of Gryffindor House)  
> Herbology taught by Pomona Sprout (Head of Hufflepuff House)  
> Charms taught by Filius Flitwick (Head of RavenclawHouse)  
> Potions taught by Severus Snape (Head of Slytherin House)  
> Defence Against the Dark Arts taught by David Hartlebury  
> Care of Magical Creatures taught by Rubeus Hagrid  
> Divination taught by Sybill Trelawney  
> Medical Magic taught by Poppy Pomfrey  
> Spell Creation and also Elemental Magical Theory taught by Tris Megistus  
> Arithmancy taught by Septima Vector  
> Astronomy taught by Aurora Sinistra  
> History taught by Cuthbert Binns  
> Politics and Law taught by Podrick Whig  
> Muggle Studies taught by Charity Burbage  
> Psychology taught by Eric Maslow  
> Ancient Runes taught by Bathsheda Babbling  
> Music taught by Dana Threnody  
> Art taught by Parcival Chiaroscuro  
> Quidditch/Flying taught by Rolanda Hooch  
> Other Staff: Argus Filch (caretaker), Irma Pince (librarian)


	16. The Debate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not a debater, I have never been on a debate team. I have done my best to roughly follow the rules for Competitive British Parliamentary Debate and for story purposes please put any errors down to Dumbledore and the school professors also not being all that familiar with the debate format. To get a feel for actual British Parliamentary Debate there are plenty of clips on youtube I'm sure. I have however allowed clapping, it is not allowed in Parliament, but I have no idea if it is allowed in the competition debate system copied from it.

**Thur 20th November**

Harry was woken up early on the day of the debate by Draco proclaiming to the wall of what he had rather come to think of as their bedroom. He was still a bit annoyed at being part of the debate club and he pointedly picked up a pillow and jammed it over his head.

As Draco was looking at the wall he didn't notice Harry's ill made point.

 _'At least,'_ Harry thought, ' _I'm not on either of the teams debating tonight.'_

There had only been one meeting of the full debate club so far, last Thursday. The debate topic had been announced and the meeting had mostly been sorting out which eight people were going to make up the two teams of four that would face each other over... actually Harry hadn't quite followed what the topic was, something about Death Eaters anyway. Harry thought it was all a bit rushed. He knew the two teams had met up since then with Professors Burbage and Whig to go over the rules and other things, as both Draco and Hermione were arguing that Death Eaters were criminals or something along with a 6th year Ravenclaw and a 7th year Hufflepuff whom Harry didn't really know, because he hadn't been paying attention. His main object that evening had been to lurk quietly and not get made to do anything. One rule that Harry had been deeply thankful for was that teams must be inter-house, which meant Hermione couldn't make him debate with her as they were both Gryffindor, so only one of them could be on the anti-Death Eater team, and obviously neither were volunteering for the opposition.

Draco was taking it very seriously, Harry had been rather horrified to hear that he might want to go into politics one day. He couldn't get back to sleep with a pillow over his head so finally he sat up in irritation. “What time is it?” he asked sharply.

Draco jumped. “Oh, sorry,” he said. “I can't use silencio cause I need to be able to hear myself. It's seven thirty or about.”

He went back to his declaiming and Harry sat against the wall and watched him grumpily. Draco had showered already and his hair was still a bit damp. He was wearing a bathrobe and a pair of slippers. After a bit Harry spoke up again, “I heard somewhere that it can make you more confident if you practice a speech without your clothes on.”

Draco paused and gave him a look. “I think you mean if I picture the audience without their clothes on.”

Harry shrugged. “I can take my pyjamas off if you think it'll help,” he said slyly, starting to unbutton his top.

“This is not helpful,” said Draco in faux petulance. He began to come toward the bed. “You are not helping,” he said watching Harry slide his pyjama top off his shoulders.

“Are you sure this isn't helping?” asked Harry, throwing his top away.

Draco climbed onto the bed and straddled Harry's legs. “The opposite of helping,” he said firmly and with a spiteful smirk he grabbed hold of both of Harry's nipples and twisted them hard.

“Oh, Merlin, fuck!” Harry swore, scrabbling helplessly against the covers with his hands, knowing from experience that moving in any other way would hurt more than staying still.

Draco relented in his grip only a little as he slid forward so that he was sat against Harry's groin. “What was that?” he asked. He twisted again.

“Ow ow ow ow, oh fuck, Draco,” Harry gasped.

Draco pressed himself against Harry's cock, which was slowly swelling underneath him. “Would you like me to let go?”

Harry bit into his bottom lip and defiantly shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut as Draco ground against him, his hips angling back to bring his own growing erection against Harry.

Draco let go anyway, slowly, then ran his hands down Harry's sides, letting his nails drag a little. He leaned down and licked at Harry's mouth. Harry instantly let go of his bottom lip and opened his mouth to him, letting Draco slide his tongue inside.

They kissed lazily, slowly relaxing. It was getting familiar now. The feel of Draco's tongue, the way his lips were strong and smooth and Harry's were softer and textured from the wind and his tendency to bite on them. The rhythm Draco set up with his hips was comfortably arousing through the cotton of his pyjamas and he was happily aware that they could keep this up for a very long, teasing, pleasurable time.

So when Draco suddenly stood up he was more than a little put out.

"I have to get to breakfast on time," Draco informed him, "We're going to go over notes before tonight. Hermione has a free period after lunch, but the rest of us are busy all day today."

"Have I mentioned how stupid I think debate club is," Harry said petulantly.

"Only every time it comes up," Draco answered, not pausing for a moment in getting dressed. "I'm hoping tonight you might finally realise just how important this could be."

"Bah," said Harry.

"Bah? Seriously?"

Harry threw himself back under the covers.

"Well, I'll see you in Defence then."

The door closed after him and the room was silent.

\--

Harry sat with Ron at dinner time as Draco was once more in deep discussion with Hermione, Fawcett and Carlisle. Ron was if anything even less interested in debate club than Harry, however he was pretending valiantly to appear interested and encouraging whenever he thought Hermione was paying attention.

"Totally paying off," he confided to Harry quietly, with an eyebrow waggle.

"I'm amazed you've manage to get her to stop working long enough to get anywhere," he replied.

"Turns out there are some things she can't read a book through."

Harry tried to shake the image out of his brain. "Has anyone said anything about me not being in the dorm?"

Ron shrugged. "Everyone in our dorm knows where you are and between us all covering I don't think anyone else realises you're not. 'Cept Hermione and Ginny of course. You should probably come hang out in the evening more though. Fred and George pretty much know as well. They don't mind you know, and they can keep a secret."

“Hmm,” said Harry.

\--

After dinner they were all chased out of the Great Hall promptly, aside from the debaters and teachers, so the room could be set up. The student body swirled awkwardly around the area as most people were curious enough to want to attend the debate and there wasn't really time enough to go anywhere else.

Harry slouched against a wall near the door, Hermione would have his head if he and Ron weren't sitting near the front in support. But he didn't like being here, it felt like everyone was talking about him.

Ron nudged him to better attention. Crabbe and Goyle were suspiciously close by. Just as Harry looked up Blaise Zabini stepped from behind them and wandered casually over.

"Potter," he said.

Harry stared at him like he had sprouted wings.

"Not taking a side on the debate then?"

"Um... Hermione's the Gryffindor on the team."

"There are _two_ teams," Zabini pointed out.

"Piss off, Zabini," said Ron. "Like any Gryffindor would argue that Death Eaters aren't criminals."

Zabini looked askance at him, "A Gryffindor _is_ , Weasley, all the teams are interhouse," he said Ron's name the way Draco had used to, like an insult.

"Like Ron said," Harry spoke up. "Piss off, Zabini."

Instead Zabini leaned forward, propping himself over Harry with one arm against the stone by his head and the other hand resting on Harry's chest. When Ron went to intervene, Crabbe and Goyle got in his way and Zabini hissed in Harry's ear, "You received a letter, a response is required."

Harry stared into Zabini's eyes as the other boy hovered too close, apparently waiting for a reply. "I may not love everything about the wizarding world," Harry said in a low growl. "But I know what side I'm on and it's not the one that murdered my parents and Cedric Diggory so you better get your hand off me before I give you a response you won't forget."

Zabini barely reacted, just leaned back a little and lifted his hand off Harry's chest in a slightly exaggerated fashion. "I shall be sure to pass on your regards," he said and smoothly departed.

Crabbe and Goyle stepped off too and Harry and Ron exchanged looks.

"Bonkers," said Ron. "You okay?"

"Yeah. This is getting serious isn't it?"

"What do you mean?" They kept their conversation quiet, standing close.

"People in our year, passing on messages for Voldemort. They're fifteen for fucks sake, and they're already taking sides in a war."

Ron lifted a shoulder. "I've known my side for years. We started fighting for it when we were eleven."

Before Harry could say anything else the doors to the Great Hall opened and they had to shove to get in near the front of the crowd.

On the dais at the front there were two tables on either side. Draco and Hermione sat at one with their team mates and Professor Burbage. On the other side with Professor Whig sat Pansy Parkinson, Marcus Belby, Andrew Kirke and Thomas Summers.

Ron snagged them seats in the front row on Hermione's side of the room. And sure enough there did seem to be an element of side taking as a large number of the Slytherin's sat themselves on the opposition teams side while the Gryffindors largely all stuck to the same as Ron and Harry, despite having a house member on each side. Andrew Kirke wasn't especially popular after all.

Dumbledore stood at the central lectern waiting for everyone to sit down. Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape chivvied the stragglers into place sternly from the back.

"Good evening all," said Dumbledore cheerfully. "And welcome to the inaugural debate of our newest school club. It has been agreed to use the British Parliamentary Debate format, and Professor Burbage's team will take the proposition that this school believes supporting Death Eaters to be a criminal act, and they will give us a course of action to change school practice. The opposition will argue against. The one difference in format is that after the first four arguments we will open the floor briefly to questions from the audience before the final four arguments are made. The debate will be judged by myself, Professor Snape, and Professor McGonagall. The winning team will be the team who receives the most overall points, with each judge awarding between 1-10 points to each speaker on their overall performance. Now, silence please for the Prime Minister who will make the opening statement."

Dumbledore stepped away and down to the judges table at the front.

Carlisle stood up from his seat and made a harrumphing sound before beginning his opening statement, addressing it half to the audience and half to the table on the other side of the stage. His voice kind of droned and Harry tuned it out to stare at Draco and contemplate what he might do later once he had him to himself again. Draco was listening to Carlisle and making amusing (to Harry anyway) faces in response to whatever he was saying. He seemed to be trying to look as if Carlisle was definitely absolutely right, but obviously (to Harry) thought that Carlisle was a tedious uninspiring oik.

Harry thought about what sort of faces Draco might make if Harry were sitting under that table with his head beneath Draco's robes. He considered what sort of wrinkles would cross Draco's brow if he used only his mouth and his teeth to make his way into Draco's underwear. He wondered if Draco would still manage to nod agreeably while sneering faintly without gasping aloud when Harry swallowed his cock down as far as he could.

He was disturbed in his thoughts by Ron's elbow to his side. “Hermione looks like she's going to explode if she doesn't get to say something soon,” Ron whispered.

“Urm,” said Harry.

“This guy is bloody awful, just listening to him is making me want to support the Death Eaters.”

“Draco did say something about their lead speaker being their weakest,” Harry murmured, annoyed at losing his train of thought.

“In conclusion,” said Carlisle. “We define Death Eaters as those who are marked by He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named and supporters of Death Eaters as any who intend to take the mark or who are in purposeful communication with Death Eaters or who promote the general aims of He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. We herefore propose that any student or teacher who is heard to state their intention to take the Dark Mark by more than one witness be expelled from the school immediately.”

Only with this final statement was there a growl of disagreement through the hall. He sat down and Hermione started hissing in his ear almost immediately, the audience applauded politely when they realised he had stopped talking.

“Thank you, Mr Carlisle,” said Dumbledore from the judges table. “If the Leader of the Opposition would like to speak.”

Marcus Belby stood up at the other table and shuffled his notes. He was looking at something Pansy had just scribbled down and handed to him.

“This party would like to make clear that there is a vast difference between a criminal and a supporter of The Dark Lord. It seems the Minister thinks that a tattoo is enough to make one a criminal. And not only just having a tattoo, but a tattoo that is only in memoriam of a man who died twelve years ago. How terribly dangerous can this body art commemorating a fallen historical figure be?”

By this point the hall, which had remained largely in stultified silence through the initial speech, was growing boisterously loud with yells of anger at the claim that Voldemort was dead from the Gryffindors and cheers and hoots of agreement from the other side. For the first time the room started to sound rather more like the British Parliament it was supposed to be imitating.

Pausing a moment to allow the sound to drop off enough to be heard, Belby continued, “This party also contends that the use of the phrase Death Eaters is irrelevant in the modern day. It is pejorative. Furthermore are people never to be allowed to move on? Those who were convicted of crimes are imprisoned, those who were not should be free to live their lives. Let us not dwell unnecessarily on the past, nor tar with an unfairly prejudiced brush those whose parents, relatives or family friends may have once been accused of wrong doing. The son is not the father, as I'm sure all here are very aware.”

This last point was very much directed at Draco, who glared back.

Hermione leapt to her feet. “Point of Order!”

Dumbledore nodded, “Mr Belby will give way.”

Belby scowled.

“Death Eaters is the accepted term both legally, politically, and as far as records are concerned, by the very people who are referred to. Does the Honourable Member have any evidence that they used or required others to use a different name?”

Belby scowled even more. “I concede that the term is historically correct in use, but I repeat that in the modern day it is irrelevant and intentionally accusatory. Who are these Death Eaters you think students may be supporting? The Dark Lord is dead and gone, there are no more Death Eaters!”

This raised loud cheering and agreement from one side of the room and furious indignation from the other.

Behind him Harry could hear one of the Weasley twins shouting “If he's dead then who killed Cedric Diggory then!?”

And beside him Ron was standing up and shouting, “How about Peter fucking Pettigrew!”

Harry shrank down in his seat feeling a bit overwhelmed.

Dumbledore stood up again and called for order. “Mr Belby, please move on with your remarks,” he said flatly once the room had calmed.

“Very well. It is this parties belief that a school is a place for open discussion and acceptance. It would be the worst kind of oppression and prejudice to penalise those whose thoughts may differ from the establishment. This party moves that this is a matter of personal beliefs and not appropriate to legislation or criminalisation.”

And with that he sat down to a loud round of applause from Slytherin House and from much of Ravenclaw who, while they may not have agreed with everything he had said, certainly agreed with the last part enough to support their own.

Hermione sprang to her feet, her hair seeming to have become slightly electrified by her enthusiasm. “I thank the Leader of the Opposition for his thoughts,” she began. “But I am afraid I must contradict him. For not only is Lord Voldemort...” there was a concerted gasp at her temerity, “... yes I will use that name, for not only is he alive but I have seen him, _and been tortured by him_ , myself not much over a month ago.” She set her jaw firmly and looked over the hall as it exploded into awed whispering. “I demand that the opposition put away their nonsense in the face of overwhelming evidence. No less than five people in this very room have seen Lord Voldemort alive in the last few months and the man who was responsible for resurrecting him was captured _on school grounds_ less than a month ago and will go on trial in front of the Wizengamot tomorrow. To deny the truth is nothing more than blatant prevarication.”

Pansy Parkinson jumped to her feet and screamed “Point of Order!” over the chaos.

“Give way for Miss Parkinson,” boomed Dumbledore. There was a slight lull to hear what she had to say.

“The possible return of the Dark Lord is irrelevant to the debate!” Pansy stated directly at Hermione. “That people may or may not exist who currently term themselves as Death Eaters is the only relevant point as there can be no supporters of Death Eaters if there are no Death Eaters. Can you point to anyone who will freely admit that they are a Death Eater?”

“That's just semantics,” cried Hermione in frustration. “By Death Eater we mean anyone who bears the mark of Lord Voldemort.”

“Anyone?” said Pansy archly. “Then you admit that you would vilify even those who have been cleared of all charges by a court of law. Does the Honourable Member believe that she is the only relevant judge and jury?”

“I admit that I can name at least two marked and living supporters of the very much alive Lord Voldemort,” Hermione retorted. “One of whom, as I have already said, will be facing charges with several others tomorrow for his crimes!”

“The Honourable Member speaks of the future,” Pansy said sarcastically. “Perhaps there will be such a trial, perhaps there will not, and who knows what will be revealed there. But unless the Honourable Member is suggesting that she is a seer who has already seen these events, which have not yet happened, I fail to see the relevance.”

The Slytherins laughed, but Dumbledore stood up. “Miss Parkinson, you will yield the floor back to the Deputy Minister to complete her statement.”

Pansy sat down graciously to applause and cocked her head at Hermione.

Hermione looked a bit thrown. “I... that is...” she looked down at her notes. “This debate hinges on the group who term themselves Death Eaters. I propose that we step away from the argument of their current existence, which I believe will clarify itself in the near future, and focus on what we believe to be their core beliefs and how we should deal with supporters of those beliefs. In the past it was the primary belief of the group known as Death Eaters that the muggleborn should not be admitted to this school or to the wizarding world, that muggles and the muggleborn were less worthy than pure blooded witches and wizards and deserved fewer rights. This party believes that all human life is precious and that all witches and wizards deserve the same rights and privileges and hold the same potential regardless of the so called purity of their family tree. This party further believes that any faculty member who cannot accept the equal rights of all living beings and the right of muggleborns to attend this school should not be teaching at this school, and that any student who does not believe these things should be encouraged through educational means to better understand the principles of the school. Thank you.” And with that she sat down with a sigh of relief.

There was applause, but overall what she had just said had been a bit too long winded to really rouse any enthusiasm and a lot of people were still holding huddled private discussions about her being tortured by Voldemort and trying to guess who the five people were she had mentioned.

“This is not at all like what I expected,” Harry murmured to Ron as he applauded Hermione.

Dumbledore had introduced the Deputy Leader of the Opposition and Pansy Parkinson had stood back up to make her rebuttal.

“Oh boy,” said Ron. “This should be something.”

“Honourable Members, gracious judges, and other members of this school. I urge you to listen carefully and not be swayed by the excitable rhetoric of the other side. This debate is first and foremost about free speech and the right of the individual. Nobody in this school is calling for the expulsion of the muggleborn, this is a straw man to distract you from an attempt to curtail your personal freedom. Freedom to speak your mind about your worries and concerns, the freedom to your own body, freedoms that are being threatened by raising the spectre of a ghost. A Dark Lord whose presence means you must shut up or be punished for even wondering if you may be in danger. Already one of our own, Justin Finch-Fletchley has been suspended for speaking up!”

Harry sat up straight in shock and Hermione looked completely flabbergasted at this unexpected angle.

“An unfair inquisition started on the scandalous gossip that someone associated with these so called Death Eaters may have dared to become involved with Harry Potter, the so called saviour of the wizarding world. All it took was the accusation of Death Eaters and dark magic to bring the unfair expulsion of an innocent and uninvolved boy! And may it be noted here that Justin is a muggle-born and yet we do not fail to stand up for him! So who I ask you, who here are the oppressed and who are the oppressors!”

Pansy sat down with a smug little nod at the other table.

Harry sat frozen in his seat as the school leapt to it's feet as one and began to either applaud loudly or shout in general confusion both at the people on the stage and each other.

“Merlin's balls,” said Ron. “Hermione wasn't expecting that.”

Dumbledore was trying to calm the room down, but in the end it took all the teachers present to bring the school back to order. Somewhere in the chaos several fights had started and Zacharias Smith was taken from the room with what looked like a broken nose, dripping blood down the central aisle, as Professor Sprout glared at the Hufflepuffs around him trying to discern who had actually done the deed.

Dumbledore was again behind the lectern and as the door to the Great Hall swung shut behind Smith and Madame Pomfrey he cleared his throat. “Yes, well. Ah, thank you to our speakers so far and we shall have a brief recess in the statements to allow for questions from the floor. Please!” he held up his hand as people started to shout. “If you wish to ask a question please stand up and remain silent. Each judge will select two students for a total of six questions, which may be directed at a specific person on the debate teams, at one team in particular or to all debate members in general. If someone asks a question which is sufficiently similar to your own please sit down again to avoid repeating ourselves. Professor McGonagall will select the first question.”

The audience shuffled as people stood up or sat down or sometimes sat down and then stood up again. Harry and Ron stayed firmly seated, although Ron looked as if he were thinking furiously, trying to come up with something good he could ask to please Hermione. Once the hall was still Professor McGonagall looked over them. Finally she called out, “Alicia Spinnet.”

“A question for the opposition,” said Alicia clearly. “They state that they are not opposed to muggleborn rights. At the same time they argue for freedom of expression of all views. What do they suggest we do when these two views conflict? Or are they claiming there have been no instances of bullying related to the blood status of a pupil here at this school?”

Marcus Belby and Pansy Parkinson consulted, and then Pansy stood up. “On behalf of my team I will take this question. Bullying is already against school policy and there is more than sufficient recourse to be taken within the existing school charter. A bully should be penalised according to existing school rules, for the form of their bullying and not the belief behind it. We of course abhor bullying in any form, of pupils by each other or of students by the establishment. But a person's thoughts are their own, it is their actions that should be taken to task.”

“Would the other team like to respond?” asked Dumbledore.

The other team exchanged glances and Hermione looked like she was going to stand but Draco shook his head minutely and she inclined her head to him as he stood up. “It is a pretty idea that actions are the only relevant issue. But as a fellow Slytherin I know only to well that actions come from thoughts and can be incited by words. We are here at this school to be taught not just spells and facts, but how to be responsible adults. We are here to be taught right from wrong and for those of us whose parents have not always done a sterling job of that,” Draco inclined his head in admission. “That lesson is even more important. The schools rules on bullying are archaic and lacking. Words that create an atmosphere of intolerance, beliefs that can in the end lead to terrible deeds, are not acceptable in what should be a nurturing and progressive environment. Our thoughts are only our own until the point at which we use them to influence others.”

Draco sat back down.

“Thank you, Alicia,” said Dumbledore. “Professor Snape, if you would choose our next question?”

The questions and debate went on. Draco listened with one ear, constantly re-tailoring his speech, which would be the second to last one of the evening. He almost wished he was arguing for the opposition just so that he could have the final word, but he was not quite so much of a grandstander to go that far. He was disappointed but not surprised that Harry hadn't got involved in the questions section. Mostly he was trying to figure out how to integrate Finch-Fletchley into his sum up. Now that he'd been brought into it, it would be good to twist Pansy's clever angle back on her. She may still be on the wrong side but he couldn’t help but be impressed at her skill.

Andrew Kirke finished speaking to a hoot of booing and animal noises from his fellow Gryffindors, who were taking his speaking for the opposition rather unfairly personally. Somebody from their House had to do it after all. He wasn't a fool, he'd kept his remarks fairly pedestrian to save his own arse.

Draco stood up. “I would like to thank you all for listening to us and I will briefly sum up our position on the subjects discussed. Wide ranging as this debate has been I come back to the position of this school as an authority figure, teaching us to be better members of society. Guiding our morals where perhaps other adults have let us down. We do not live in a moral vacuum, there is such a thing as right and wrong and we do not automatically know one from the other. I am fifteen years old. I am growing and changing and learning. My choices have not always been correct. We propose that the school institute a class in social responsibility and good citizenship; teaching and discussing the ways that we can help make our society stronger, happier and more tolerant. A place for open debate and yes, freedom of expression. We propose that the school instate rules specifically against hateful and intolerant speech whether it be against the muggleborn, against homosexuality or indeed even upon the sons and daughters of Death Eaters.” He paused and Harry thought he had finished. But instead he was fortifying himself for his final words. “And to end, whether it be relevant or not, I wish to make a statement of my own. In years past I have spoken against the muggleborn, I have been hateful and intolerant, I have supported my father and his beliefs. And have no doubt that my father, Lucius Malfoy, is a Death Eater! I have seen him torture, I have seen him kill, innocent people, magical and muggle. I have been in the presence of Lord Voldemort and he is alive, embodied and in his full power. Last year I would have joined him, this year I speak out against him. This is not academic or theoretical. This is reality. This is my life, and I have already nearly lost it several times as a result of choosing my own path. Twice to people in this very school. The danger in this school is real and present and who wins this debate will make no difference to that. Pretty words will not change the fact that I am looking across an audience that is seeded with people who support criminals and murderers. People who are hurrying to join them, passing them information and doing their bidding. I speak to those people. I was one of you, until I saw the real price, the dirty, violent, despicable price of these beliefs. The reality is not noble, it is not pure and it has nothing to do with freedom for anyone.”

Draco sucked in a breath, and looked over at Pansy Parkinson, before he sat back down.

There was a moment of silence before Harry jumped to his feet to applaud loudly followed by most of the Gryffindors and then the rest of the school, even if some people were clearly only paying lip service to the standing ovation to avoid being singled out as one of “those people”. Pansy Parkinson pursed her lips.


	17. Pre-Trial Motions

For those interested the final debate scores from the previous chapter were as follows...

  | Snape | McGonagall | Dumbledore | Totals  
---|---|---|---|---  
Prime Minister D. Carlisle | 3 | 5 | 6 | 14 |    
Leader of the Opp M. Belby | 6 | 6 | 6 |   | 18  
Depute Prime Minister H. Granger | 8 | 9 | 8 | 25 |    
Deputy Leader Opp. P. Parkinson | 9 | 8 | 9 |   | 26  
Member of Gov. S. Fawcett | 7 | 7 | 8 | 22 |    
Member of Opp. A. Kirke | 4 | 6 | 6 |   | 16  
Government Whip D. Malfoy | 10 | 10 | 10 | 30 |    
Opposition Whip T. Summers | 7 | 8 | 9 |   | 24  
  |   |   |   | 91 to 84  
  
 

 **Thursday 20** **th** **Nov**

**Teacher's Common Room**

  
The teachers were buzzing with the gossip of the evening. The debate had been close, with only seven points between the two teams. If it hadn't been for Draco Malfoy getting 10 points across the board from all three judges the opposition might have won.  
  
Snape had not been surprised that the two Slytherins on the teams had garnered the most points, political manipulation was a trait his house specialised in.  
  
But the debate was not the only topic running around the room. In fact Professor Snape had argued rather vehemently against the debate taking place this evening as the trial of Peter Pettigrew and the other Death Eaters who had been arrested on Samhain started at 9am prompt tomorrow morning in London. Professor Sinistra and Madame Hooch were already in London ready to be called to testify about that night, having left by train that morning, and Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall had departed as soon as the debate was over.  
  
He and the Headmaster had been told they would not be needed on the first day, which mildly concerned him. But all the same it was better they were still at the school with so many other teachers away. What was more concerning was that Potter had not been asked to testify at all yet, and Snape suspected he wouldn't be, something he would no doubt pitch a fit about when he found out. Which he would no doubt not even realise until Draco had to leave to testify, the boy was insufferably oblivious to the fine detail of life.  
  
It would be a late night for him, Dumbledore had already made clear that he wanted to see the updated student lists after curfew tonight and he would want to discuss how things were proceeding on that front.  
  
The lists from the other houses had been far shorter than the Slytherin list, but the other Heads of House had been shocked to see even as many as there were in bold black and white. Eleven Gryffindors, three Hufflepuffs and nine Ravenclaws all in, at the moment anyway. Minerva had been entertainingly furious that her House had the highest number after Slytherin. Interestingly enough the lists, which were rechecked daily, were far more changeable than anyone had expected. Though given the tumultuous nature of teenagers they perhaps should have been less surprised. The indecision was in many ways a relief.  
  
And once this damned trial was over and done with they could get down to implementing some of the many changes that they had been discussing over the last two weeks. Two new teachers were due to arrive on Monday along with the start of compulsory Muggle Studies classes for all non-muggleborn students and classes in Modern Wizarding Culture for the muggleborns. Annoying as she was, it was Hermione Granger who had insistently and incessantly talked the Headmaster into implementing changes now, not next year. It had taken three hours of arguing to separate the students correctly into the two classes between the children with one muggle parent or who had been born to magical parents but raised by others. And then the scheduling... it made his head hurt right between his eyes just to think about it. Professor Chiaroscuro, the art teacher, was going to teach Modern Wizarding Culture. And of course Albus had turned down his request to take over the newly vacant Defence position once more, claiming he couldn't possibly lose such a reliable and talented potions teacher.  
  
Snape looked over at Professor Binns, who was drifting mournfully by the window. Trying to explain to him that he was actually dead and that unfortunately his hours were going to have to be cut down as his methods were, as a result of his being dead for some time, a little out of date... well that  had taken far longer than three days. In fact it was still ongoing as he tended to forget again, or at least pretend to.  
  
It had been a fraught decision, some of the older teachers remembered the living Professor Binns and rather felt for him that he was essentially losing his job after such long service. But there was no doubt that the poor teaching in History of Magic was part of the problem. Professor Binns rarely remembered to cover Lord Voldemort at all, as his rise had occurred largely after his death. And it couldn’t be argued that he had ever been a particularly talented teacher, even the most dedicated of student rarely achieved more than an A in History of Magic and only those with absolutely no choice continued to NEWT level. Mostly due to his inability to speak in anything but a dry monotone, something that had only worsened since his passing. As a result students were left with little more than gossip and what their parents told them to mould their opinions on past events.  
  
Professor Binns had been generously allowed to continue teaching 50% of his timetable to the OWL and NEWT level students to take away some of the sting of being ousted. For the time being at least. After all someone had to cover the goblin rebellions and it had been his speciality, and it meant the new History teacher could also help with the new Wizarding Culture classes.  
  
Two new teachers, two new classes and a list of Slytherins almost as long as his arm to somehow persuade to walk a path he himself had only finally managed to stumble onto in his twenties.  
  
It was enough to make him feel twenty years older than he was, and he hadn't even had to testify in public to being a Death Eater yet.  
  
  
–  
**Friday 21st November**  
  
They all had a free period on Friday morning, even Draco now that his main classes had been switched so he was with the Gryffindors instead of the Slytherins. So they were having a celebration breakfast in Draco's room since they had won the debate.  
  
“You mean since I won the debate,” pointed out Draco smugly. “With my perfect score.” Between that nebulous honour and Harry's rather more practical reward for his performance later that night, he was in a very good mood.  
  
Ron made a face.  
  
“I can't wait to testify at the trial tomorrow,” Draco added. “I’m going to score a perfect 10 there too.”  
  
“You don't get marks out of 10 in the real world,” said Hermione somewhat sniffily, she never did deal well with people getting higher marks than her, and both Draco and Pansy Parkinson had beaten her score last night.  
  
“The trial?” said Harry.  
  
Hermione and Draco looked at him in exasperation.  
  
Harry twigged quickly enough though. “Wormtail's trial is tomorrow? I totally forgot!”  
  
“Actually it started today,” said Hermione. “They expect it to last all weekend.”  
  
Harry frowned. “Are we all going to London tomorrow then?” he asked.  
  
Hermione, Draco and Sirius exchanged awkward looks.  
  
“Um... “ said Draco. “Just me actually. I'm going down with Snape.”  
  
There was a heavy pause.  
  
“What?” said Harry loudly.  
  
“They, ah, they haven't called you to testify,” said Sirius delicately.  
  
"What do you mean they don't want me to testify?" demanded Harry. "I was there when we found out Wormtail was Scabbers, there when he resurrected Voldemort, there when he was caught ..."  
  
"I know," said Sirius, interrupting him. "But it's up to the Ministry and to Wormtail's lawyer who takes the stand, and they don't want you."  
  
"But why not!"  
  
"I should think that's obvious," said Hermione. "They don't want you talking about Voldemort at the trial."  
  
"But they can't keep pretending he's not out there."  
  
"My father gave them the perfect scapegoat," said Draco. "They blamed our kidnapping on him, they can blame this on him too. Lucius Malfoy, public enemy number one, and his little band of ex-Death Eaters."  
  
"He's right," said Sirius. "They'd rather have the embarrassment of a public benefactor and good friend of the Minister turning out bad than the all out terror of Voldemort returning. And with you and me not testifying, who knows what'll happen at the trial. We can't even be sure I'll be cleared of anything other than killing that two-faced little creep."  
  
“You're not testifying either? How does that make sense?” asked Harry.  
  
“As I'm essentially being re-tried, I can't be a witness, apparently,” said Sirius grumpily. “They specifically said I have to stay here in my 'protective custody' until they have a result. I think they don't want me there reminding anyone that I never actually got a trial in the first place!”  
  
"So who is testifying?" asked Ron.  
  
"Moony's been called," answered Sirius. "And Dumbledore insisted the Ministry let him speak..."  
  
"At least they can't stop him from telling the truth," said Harry.  
  
"Professor McGonagall, Snape and a bunch of the other teachers involved in the capture of the Death Eaters," finished Sirius.  
  
"And me," finished Draco.  
  
"And Draco."  
  
“Well they'll regret that,” said Hermione with a smile. “If your testimony is anything like your speech last night.” She looked as though she might forgive him for beating her if he told the entire court the same thing he'd told the school last night.  
  
“I already decided,” answered Draco. “If they're cowards enough to not let Harry testify, then I'll make them regret letting me anywhere near the stand.”  
  
“Take no prisoners!” hooted Ron.  
  
“Exactly,” agreed Draco with a sly grin.  
  
–  
  
Later that night after a rather harrowing Triple Potions (Snape was in a terrible mood) and a day full of student arguments and fights, Harry and Draco were glad to find themselves alone. The debate seemed to have half the school still arguing or getting revenge for previous comments and it was a bit hairy in the corridors to say the least.  
  
Harry threw himself into bed fully clothed and lay there until Draco was done in the bathroom, almost dozing off.  
  
“Go brush your teeth, I'm not having you sleeping in the same bed with me unless you can manage some basic personal hygiene,” Draco said, as he tipped him off the mattress with a swipe of his wand.  
  
Brushing his teeth and washing his face woke Harry up a bit again, and he started thinking again about Draco's testimony tomorrow.  
  
“Do you have to be up early?” was his first rather childish thought, Saturday's were for sleeping in.  
  
“We're going to portkey down,” Draco answered. “Snape's coming to get me at eight thirty.”  
  
“Mmph,” said Harry in disgust as he climbed into bed beside Draco.  
  
“I'll try not to wake you up,” Draco soothed him as Harry nuzzled his way into a comfortable position at his side.  
  
Lying there, playing with the buttons on Draco's pyjamas and trying to decide if he wanted to go to sleep, something else occurred to Harry. "What will you say if they ask you what we were doing in the Forest that night?"  
  
"I don't know, the truth I suppose."  
  
"What!?"  
  
"That we were observing Samhain."  
  
"So not ..."  
  
"No, I thought about telling them I was giving my boyfriend a good hard seeing to, but then I thought perhaps I might leave that out after all. Unless of course you're concerned I tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing..."  
  
"Oh, shove off."  
  
"Because I wouldn't want to be a naughty boy and lie to the Ministry," smirked Draco.  
  
Harry rolled on top of Draco, grabbing his hands and pinning them by his head. “You just keep our sex life out of it or else,” Harry mock threatened him.  
  
The two boys looked at each other. This was a turn about for them, usually Draco was the aggressor and not just because Harry liked it that way. Harry looked thoughtful and decided he wasn't so tired after all, then he licked Draco's mouth, a broad slow swipe of his tongue over both of his lips.  
  
They looked at each other again, feeling the mood. Then Harry licked Draco's cheek, a long wet lick right from the point of his chin, over his sharp cheekbone and up to his eyebrow. To accomplish it he had to move higher, dragging his body firmly up Draco's.  
  
Their eyes met again. Harry could feel Draco growing hard under him, see the interest in his eye. Not submissive, but curious, definitely willing to see where this might be going.  
  
Harry lent over and ran his tongue round the rim of Draco's ear. That garnered a small pleased noise. So he kept going, exploring the ear with lips, tongue and teeth. Draco was definitely enjoying this, by the small noises and little wriggles he was making.  
  
Eventually Harry sat up, leaving Draco's hands free and letting all his weight settle over Draco's crotch as he unbuttoned Draco's pyjamas. He could feel Draco's cock running under him, it's head nestled just under Harry's balls. He rocked and swayed his hips infinitesimally just to feel it better, create tiny pulls of friction along it and nestle it deeper between the crack of his own buttocks. A tease with two layers of fabric still between them.  
  
Then he ignored it to lean forward and take another broad lick of Draco's skin, this time along the line of his clavicle and into the hollow at the base of his neck. He liked the way Draco's skin felt against his tongue. Tiny hints of taste here and there.  
  
“You're making me all wet,” Draco complained mildly. His voice rich with arousal, making it clear he didn't mind at all.  
  
So Harry ignored him and licked across his chest, right across his right nipple. He went back immediately to the same spot this time concentrating on running the tip of his tongue over the darker flesh, feeling the small nipple tighten to a tiny nub. He continued to do so, back and forth, it felt good against the tip of his tongue. Then he opened his mouth and sucked the whole area inside and bit down firmly with his teeth, the way he'd felt Draco do to him, the way he knew he liked it.  
  
Draco groaned and Harry bore down again with his weight onto Draco's crotch. Grinding harder this time, his hands soothing down Draco's sides.  
  
He moved to the other side and repeated himself on the other nipple. But as he did he lifted his weight up and stripped Draco's pyjamas down to his thighs. Draco lifted his hips to help, his hands fluttering at Harry's head before settling in his hair, just to tangle it around his fingers.  
  
Harry lifted his head when he was done biting and looked up at him. “I'm not hurting you too much am I?” he asked just to be sure.  
  
Draco shook his head firmly. “No, doesn't hurt. Don't stop.”  
  
Harry grinned and kissed him properly but still very wetly. Forcing his tongue in and pushing Draco's mouth wide so he could lick into it possessively. He placed one hand over Draco's erection, not moving, just holding it firmly. It pulsed in his hand, hot and silky, as he sucked messily on Draco's tongue.  
  
When he finally pulled back Draco's face was wet from his nose to his chin and his lips were red and swollen from being nibbled and sucked into Harry's mouth.  
  
Harry looked down at him, lying unusually soft and pliant under him. “This is nice,” he said, liking how ravished Draco looked. He squeezed Draco's cock and watched him gasp.  
  
He moved himself down, stripping Draco's pyjamas off completely, and licked one long slow swipe up the length of Draco's cock.  
  
“Yes,” hissed Draco, twisting his hands into the sheets.  
  
But rather than continue, Harry sat up again. “Roll over,” he instructed.  
  
“Hmm?” Draco responded.  
  
But Harry just waited with a simmering look and Draco obediently rolled onto his front. Harry settled back down on him and ran his hands down his back, then licked slowly from his tail bone all the way up over each vertebrae until he felt Draco's hair tickling his tongue at the nape of this neck. He laid his body down over Draco's, feeling the fit of them together, pressing only through Harry's pyjamas now. He found the ear he hadn't tormented yet and sucked on it as he wiggled his own erection in between Draco's buttocks, slowly thrusting. He could feel Draco slightly arching into the movement and he smiled around the shell of his ear. “Stay there,” he whispered and got up to remove his pyjamas so he could lie back down and feel the expanse of Draco's warm skin against his own. He found the same position again, his mouth hanging down by Draco's ear, his hands resting over Draco's up by their heads. With his feet he pushed Draco's legs a little further apart, loving the heat and damp sweat of the cleft his cock was pressed into.  
  
“What are you thinking?” he asked quietly into Draco's ear.  
  
He heard and felt Draco breathe in thoughtfully before speaking. “If you want to,” he answered softly. “I could see.... if you're careful...”  
  
“Do you want to?”  
  
“Yes... maybe anyway... I'd like to try,” he answered.  
  
Harry kissed the ear by his lips and slid down till he was entirely between Draco's legs. This time the long slow swipe of his tongue started just shy of Draco's balls and ran all the way up the crease between his legs.  
  
Draco moaned as Harry began to explore and soothe and gradually enter the tight ring of muscle between his buttocks, using only his tongue for now. Draco felt like the worst kind of hypocrite as this was hands down his favourite thing to have Harry do to him, but he had never been able to bring himself to reciprocate. But when it was happening it was hard to care, as it felt so amazingly good, and Harry seemed to love doing it almost as much as Draco loved having it done to him. So wet and warm and intimate and unlike any other feeling.  
  
Draco was trying to lift his hips, pushing himself further onto Harry's tongue, and looking for some friction against his cock or to encourage Harry to take it back into his hand. But Harry had a firm grip on him and was holding him in place, thumbs pushed into the soft flesh of his cheeks. He had Draco's calves trapped under him.  
  
“More, more, more, more, please,” Draco pleaded softly, his own hands up by his head, nibbling on one of his own fingers to get more sensation.  
  
Although Harry could quite happily have kept fucking Draco with his tongue until Draco came, that wasn't the plan for tonight. He pulled back to watch Draco and with a muttered “Lubricans” he slid one finger inside, studying the play and pull of muscles over Draco's back and ass and thighs.  
  
“Look at me,” he told him, and Draco looked back over his shoulder and met Harry's gaze with an expression that was hungry and urgent and with a slight suggestion that if Harry didn't get on with it and make it good, Draco would take back his usual position and fuck Harry into the mattress himself.  
  
Harry felt his cock jerk at that and slid another finger into Draco, who seemed to be very ready now to take this further. Ready enough that since Harry had taken his weight off Draco's hips he took the opportunity to push himself further onto Harry's fingers, coming onto his knees and bracing his elbows into the mattress. And Harry definitely wanted, so it wasn't long before he made two fingers three, bearing down on them and reaching around to grasp Draco's cock again.  
  
Draco moaned and writhed. But something didn't quite feel right, and then Harry finally figured out what it was. As he slowly fucked Draco with his fingers, he let out a startled laugh.  
  
“What's so funny,” Draco growled, looking back at him.  
  
“Not sure I can explain... I just...” Harry pulled his fingers out and slicked his cock. “I really really.... I can't even put into words just how much I want to fuck you right now.”  
  
Draco hummed happily at that and at the fact that Harry was rubbing the head of his cock up and down along the cleft of his ass.  
  
“Except I have this weird feeling that if I just... do it... I'm going to somehow get into trouble.” Harry looked at Draco with a helpless frustration.  
  
“Oh for Merlin's sake,” Draco stared at him in exasperation. “What do you need, a gold plated invitation? A signed agreement of mutual desire?”  
  
“Okay, okay, I'm.... okay I'm doing it...” Harry took a deep breath and pushed. And it felt so good and so weird at the same time. Like he was somehow taking advantage of Draco, which was ridiculous cause Draco was pushing back against him forcefully and moaning for him to keep going.  
  
Finally he found himself settled as deep as he could go, his hands stroking and soothing Draco's sides as if he was still afraid he might be hurting him. He felt his nervousness settle as Draco was clearly liking this very much indeed, if his moans and the way his back was arching and were anything to go by.  
  
“You like?” he asked anyway.  
  
“Mmmmm, I like. Feels sore, but not bad sore. Keep it slow for now, okay?”  
  
“Of course,” Harry promised and slowly drew back so he could slide in again. He was amazed that something could feel so good and yet still leave him yearning for the feel of Draco over and around him. This was good, but he knew next time around he'd be making sure Draco was the one fucking him.  
  
 - -  
**Saturday 22nd Nov**  
  
Draco was as good as his word and didn't wake Harry at all when he left, so that when Harry finally dragged himself out of sleep he was alone and by the sharp low sun coming through the window it must be about ten he figured. He really needed to buy a new watch, he hadn't had one that worked since the second task last year.  
  
He got dressed and wandered down the hall to Sirius' room to see if he was up yet. Sure enough Sirius looked to have been up for some time, and he seemed nervous as he invited Harry in. Harry sat down, but Sirius couldn't seem to stay put. Pacing the room.  
  
“You okay?”  
  
“Generally,” Sirius replied. “When my fate is decided without me being present the result has not been.... ideal.”  
  
“Why don't we get out of here, go for a walk or something then,” Harry suggested after Sirius paced another couple of lengths of the room.  
  
Sirius agreed and, with a stop over at the kitchens for Harry to grab some breakfast, they made their way out of the castle, Harry on two legs and Sirius on four. They circled the lake playing fetch and finally headed into the edges of the forest where Sirius transformed back to his human form.  
  
“Do you think I could learn that?” Harry asked.  
  
“You want to be an animagus?”  
  
“I dunno. I know it's supposed to be hard, but if Wormtail can do it then surely anyone could, right?”  
  
“Don't bet on it. The first time Peter changed he nearly died. That was when we finally realised just what a massive risk we had taken doing it. Up till then we were just cocky teenagers convinced we were capable of anything.”  
  
“Shame he didn't,” Harry grumbled.  
  
“Huh?”  
  
“Die. Peter, that is. Though I suppose if he had you would have felt guilty about it forever.”  
  
“Yeah. I suppose we would have,” Sirius said thoughtfully. “Peter was never … it's hard to reconcile. The person we thought Peter was back then with the person I realise he actually was. We knew he wasn't as smart as Moony or as rich as James or as good looking as me...”  
  
Harry snorted at Sirius' vanity, but in fairness he had seen photos of how Sirius had looked back then and he wasn't wrong. Even after all those years in Azkaban he was still a good looking man, if a little worn in.  
  
“We always knew in some ways he was using us to have things he wouldn't have had otherwise, but back then it didn't matter. We just thought of him as kind of as our team mascot and fall guy. In a lot of ways we were using him right back. And since we shared a dorm it was easier to have him on side than not. Eventually we'd been friends so long we just never questioned it. I sometimes wonder if he was always... like that. Or if things just changed gradually. I don't know. It would actually be nice to think he was okay once, that we didn't entirely misjudge someone who was so close to us for so long.”  
  
Harry was silent. He and Sirius didn't often talk like this. Hadn't often had the opportunity to. After a while he asked, “Does him being finally caught help?”  
  
“Yeah, it does. Although today my nerves are getting the better of me, there's this little bit that just thinks it's all going to go to shit again and I'll end up...back there.”  
  
“We'd never let that happen,” Harry was fast to reassure. ”Never.”  
  
Sirius smiled.  
  
“Let's not talk about Wormtail any more,” Harry decided. “Tell me something I don't know about you.”  
  
Sirius looked bemused. “Could you be less vague?”  
  
“Um.... okay, why do you hate Snape so much?”  
  
Sirius's face squinched, “I'm not sure I can answer that on the fly, I'd kind of have to explain more than seven years worth of little things at once. He's a greasy, bitter, underhanded, slimy git?”  
  
“Um, right.” They walked through fallen leaves in silence for a bit. “What were your family like?”  
  
Sirius thought about it. “Insane,” he said finally. “And not in an amusing way, in a dangerous way. I was the black sheep of the family getting sorted into Gryffindor. The Blacks were big on blood prejudice, hated anything that wasn't a pureblood wizard basically. Supported Grindelwald when he was about. Kept their mouths shut publicly on You-Know-Who, but supported him behind closed doors and would have thrown in with him the minute he'd won. And my parents were both Blacks, distant cousins... that's not uncommon in the rich old pure-blooded families. They're all inter-related and they refuse to marry anyone with muggle blood on pain of disinheritance. My cousin Andromeda got burned off the family tree for marrying a muggleborn when I was a kid, she would be Draco's aunt on his mother's side. My mother was especially vile, Walburga Black. The only decent one I met was my Uncle Alphard. He was still nuts, but in a significantly less murder-y way.”  
  
“You're related to the Malfoys?” asked Harry in surprise.  
  
“Yeah, his Grandfather on his Mum's side was my Uncle. Like I said, all the pureblood families crossover somewhere. Which if I think about it makes him my sole heir by blood, of course I'm leaving everything to you... that was put into my will as soon as James asked me to be your godfather.”  
  
“What if you'd had kids yourself?” asked Harry.  
  
“Well I suppose I'd have changed it again, but to be honest I never saw myself having kids of my own.”  
  
Harry found himself thinking about his own parents, as he often did around Sirius.“What was my Dad's family like?”  
  
“The Potter's were wealthy purebloods too, but they were good people. The odd bad egg here and there, but that's nothing new. Look at your Aunt Petunia!”  
  
Harry made a face at the thought of the Dursleys. Hopefully he could stay with Sirius this summer. “Did you know her? When you were younger?”  
  
“Not well, I met her a few times. Right up herself she was, used to refuse to speak to Lily, drove her nuts. She moved out to go to college before Lily had finished at Hogwarts. Married that ass Dursley not long after, I remember Lily complaining about not being asked to be a bridesmaid.”  
  
“What happened to them, my Mum and Dad's parents?”  
  
Sirius sighed. “James' parents, Monty and Euphemia, they were old when they had him. They both died before you were born, dragon pox. Lovely people, I was always welcome round their house in the summer and then they took me in completely when I left home at fifteen. James was so upset that they never got to meet you. Lily's parents died before you were born too, and I never really knew them. She didn't like to talk about it. I only met them once at the wedding, they seemed a bit at sea with everyone else being wizards. They were proud of her, thought magic was brilliant, but they didn't really know how to cope with the wizarding world.”  
  
“I saw them once, in this magic mirror Dumbledore had. It showed you what you desired, and it showed me my family. Not just Mum and Dad, but other people too.“  
  
It seemed no matter what topic they picked they ended up feeling sad, so they wandered on in silence.

 


	18. The Trial

**Sat 22 nd Nov cont**

  
Draco was fidgeting internally while sitting supremely still in an anti chamber where he had now been stuck for nearly four hours without having the slightest idea what was going on in the court room.  
  
He, Snape and Hermione – whom it turned out had somehow managed to persuade someone to give her a guest pass to observe the day's proceedings and was therefore inside knowing what was going on – had arrived half an hour before court adjourned. Which had given them just enough time to get a 10 minute summary from Professor Dumbledore as to what he had found out about yesterday. Which had amounted to not very much. Lot's of minor statements and a general sense that nobody wanted anyone to say anything other than exactly what they wanted to hear. Dumbledore was inside with Hermione. They had no idea when or even if they were going to be called to testify.  
  
Draco was deeply irritated. And uncomfortable, he hadn't considered last night quite how long he might be spending today sat on hard wooden furniture. He wondered if he could subtly mutter a cushioning charm without Professor Snape noticing. It felt rather as if he had two very specific bruises right where Harry's narrow hip bones had been slamming into his backside.  
  
He stood up and went to stare at a painting.  
  
The door opened and Dumbledore and Hermione came in.  
  
“Recessed for lunch,” Hermione explained.  
  
“What's been happening?”  
  
“A lot of witnesses for the defence, the Death Eaters who got caught with Wormtail are trying to prove that they were there under false pretences. Basically they're trying to blame it all on Wormtail and I'm worried it might be working. Turns out some of them have some pretty rich friends and families more than willing to do anything to back them up. I think they've bribed their lawyer to throw Wormtail to the court and save them.”  
  
“They attacked children, how are they going to sweet talk their way around that?”  
  
“A couple of them are claiming they were under Imperius, the others are saying they were confunded before the fight and thought they were protecting themselves. The story is Wormtail called them there to talk to them and instead they found themselves in the middle of a fight they knew nothing about.”  
  
Professor Snape broke into their conversation, “We'll take lunch in the Ministry cafeteria, the food is terrible but it's quicker than going anywhere else. Come along.”  
  
They followed him and Professor Dumbledore out of the room.  
  
Shortly after lunch the call finally came through, not for Draco but for Professor Snape. With a muttered sigh of frustration, Draco cast a cushioning charm on his chair.  
  
–  
  
Snape was being called as a witness for the prosecution and it was the Ministry lawyer that questioned him first. A sour looking woman with a very precise and clipped way of speaking.  
  
“On the night of October 31st this year, please explain to the court the circumstances of your meeting with the defendants.”  
  
“Since the return of the Dark Lord I have...”  
  
She broke in immediately over the muttering of the few members of the public present, “Please refrain from any extemporising, Mr Snape. The events of that evening only.”  
  
“It's Professor Snape, and how can I explain the circumstances without...”  
  
“Just the bare facts. When you left the school, where you went, who you saw, what they did. We are only concerned at the moment with the facts of that evening.”  
  
He clenched his teeth briefly then started again. “I left the school, with the knowledge of the Headmaster, at approximately 10pm. I was to meet with persons unknown at 10.45pm in a lane near Hogsmeade. They were late and did not arrive until nearly 11pm. The person who arrived was Peter Pettigrew.”  
  
“Can you please point out the person who met you.”  
  
Snape indicated Pettigrew where he was restrained in the centre of the room next to the other Death Eaters. They looked passably confident, but Pettigrew looked pale and worried.  
  
“Pettigrew was surprised to see me because I hadn't done as had been asked of me.” He paused, expecting to be asked to clarify. But there was only silence. “He told me they had someone else inside the school and he was only here to bring me in.”  
  
“Pettigrew was there to bring you in.”  
  
“That is what he said, I tried to draw my wand but before I could he... stupified me,” Snape admitted rather stiffly. He was not proud of the fact he had let Pettigrew get one over on him.  
  
“And what happened when you were revived?”  
  
“I was woken up by Sirius Black. He was holding a rat in one hand, it was unconscious. But before he could tell me anything we were attacked by more Death Eaters.”  
  
“You mean by these other men here?”  
  
“Yes, those other Death Eaters sitting next to Peter Pettigrew,” he answered.  
  
The Minister for Magic, who was one of three judges presiding over the court, spoke up, “Let it be noted that none of these men are convicted Death Eaters and the witness will refrain from referring to them by that name.”  
  
“I refer to them as such because I know them to be such,” replied Snape icily.  
  
“The witness will refer to the defendants as required or will be held in contempt of court!” snapped Fudge. Next to him a short fat woman with a ribbon in her hair nodded in agreement, Snape recognised her as the woman who had taken part in the school inspection.  
  
“Yes those men sitting with Peter Pettigrew attacked myself and Sirius Black,” ground out Snape.  
  
“And what was Pettigrew doing at the time?”  
  
“He was unconscious, Pettigrew is a rat animagus. I saw him transform myself later in the evening.”  
  
“Then the other men apparated in after Pettigrew was unconscious.”  
  
“That's right. They pursued us into the Forbidden Forest. We had Pettigrew with us at the time.”  
  
“Then they may have been attempting to retrieve him?”  
  
“I would not like to guess at other men's thoughts. They pursued us, throwing curses and hexes at us, including the Killing Curse. I don't know if they even realised we had Pettigrew as Black had stuffed him into his pocket.”  
  
“Can you specify who cast the Killing Curse?”  
  
“I was running for my life at the time, it could have been any of them.”  
  
“Now you ended up meeting with two students in the forest is that correct?”  
  
“Yes, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy had been escorted into the forest by Black to conduct a Samhain ritual. We came across them as we were running and took shelter inside their circle. Unfortunately Black forgot that Pettigrew was in his pocket and as soon as he woke up his unwelcomed presence broke open the circle.”  
  
“And what happened when Pettigrew awoke?”  
  
“Draco Malfoy was attempting to contact the school by projecting his spirit form. A difficult and risky form of old magick. As he was unconscious I picked him up and ran towards the school with him. Two of the  Dea.... men followed us and I can only presume the others remained behind to fight with Potter and Black. Draco woke up as we were running and I tripped and damaged my ankle. As I was no longer able to run I sent Draco on ahead and delayed the two Dea... men following us.”  
  
“Can you identify the two men who were attacking you?”  
  
Snape pointed out a skinny blonde man with freckles and a dark skinned man with a paunch. He didn't recognise any of the other five men, only Peter. Which worried him. How many new recruits did Voldemort have and how had he managed it so quickly?  
  
“And did the men seem in their right minds, did they seem at all confused?”  
  
“Not in the slightest. I defended myself against the two of them briefly before Rubeus Hagrid joined me. They seemed perfectly aware of their actions and intentions, if fortunately not as skilled at duelling as I am.”  
  
“And what sort of spells were they casting?”  
  
“If you mean did they cast any illegal spells, they did attempt to cast the Cruciatus Curse and the Killing Curse on me and on others of the staff, although not particularly well. They were incapacitated almost immediately on the other teachers arriving. I did not see anything more of the fight after that, several of the other teachers went on and assisted in the capture of the other three... men and Pettigrew. Then we took them all back to the school and Hagrid and I watched over them until the Aurors arrived.”  
  
“Well I think that covers that evening,” said the lawyer. “I now refer to the events of two years ago when Sirius Black was captured at Hogwarts and then escaped again. Can you confirm you were present for some of these events?”  
  
“That is correct,” Snape replied tightly. Part of him deeply longed to do his very best to prevent Black from being pardoned. But for the sake of Dumbledore and for Draco who had, in his own subtle way, tried to emphasise how much he would appreciate Black being released, he would hold his tongue.  
  
Once his testimony was over he stalked out of the room to find Draco, he was finally being called to speak himself.  
  
–  
  
Draco felt a lot less confident than he had in the Great Hall. He knew Hogwarts, and all in all there had been no real consequences to the debate. It suddenly seemed very small and insignificant to have been given the winning score by three teachers who, when it came down to it, were on his side. A lot of unfriendly eyes regarded him from the stacked seating of the large stone room, not least of which were those of the Minister of Magic and Dolores Umbridge, the toad like woman sat next to him, who had also questioned Draco during the school inspection. He didn’t like her then and he liked her even less now. He felt smaller than he had in a long time and he wished Harry were here. He sought out Granger’s face, there next to Dumbledore. She gave him a small and slightly awkward wave when she saw him looking at her. He swallowed and straightened his already straight posture.  
  
“Draco Lucius Malfoy, you are currently a minor, however your mother Narcissa Malfoy nee Black has chosen to appoint Professor Severus Snape as your temporary guardian for matters in this court. As your father is currently wanted on criminal charges he has no legal standing. Do you understand and accept this.”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Can you tell us why you were in the Forbidden Forest with Harry Potter on the night of October 31st this year?”  
  
“It was Samhain, the school doesn’t hold any ritual and I wanted to observe the festival.”  
  
“And did you have permission to do this?”  
  
“I… no, not as such.”  
  
“Did anyone know where you were going or what you were doing?”  
  
“I asked Sirius to keep an eye on us, Sirius Black.”  
  
“And how do you know Sirius Black?”  
  
“Um… “ he looked over at Dumbledore, but the old man was inscrutable. “He’s Harry’s Godfather.”  
  
“You must have been aware that Black was a wanted man and a suspected Death Eater?”  
  
“I knew he was accused of several crimes that he hadn’t committed. I knew he had been falsely imprisoned without a trial… if that’s what you mean,” he answered. He saw Hermione grin at him from the corner of his eye as he looked over at Fudge who was frowning.  
  
“And where exactly was Black while you were alone in the forest with Harry Potter?”  
  
“Um… about. He wasn’t in sight so I can’t say.”  
  
“And do you and Mr Potter spend a lot of time alone these days?”  
  
Draco’s hand tightened into a fist. “I’m not sure what all these questions have to do with being attacked by Peter Pettigrew and a bunch of Death Eaters,” he replied coldly, glancing at Snape.  
  
Snape gave a faint shrug and the prosecutor continued, “Were you asked by anyone to take Harry Potter away from the school and into the forest… alone?”  
  
His breath hitched in a chest, he was getting an inkling of where this might be going.  “No, I was not.”  
  
“But this is the second time you have been with Harry Potter when he has been attacked by your father and his associates?”  
  
“My father wasn’t there at Samhain, as far as I know he had nothing to do with what happened that night.”  
  
“When did you last speak to your father?”  
  
“Not since a month ago when he and Lord Voldemort kidnapped...”  
  
Fudge shot to his feet. “The defendant was not asked about anyone but his father!”  
  
Snape spoke up finally. “Mr Malfoy is not on trial here, he is a witness not a defendant!”  
  
“The witness,” said Fudge. “The witness will reply to the question asked only and not make up lies to try and protect his family!”  
  
The prosecutor continued, “You claim you have not spoken to your father recently, have you received any messages from him or from associates of his?”  
  
Very tightly Draco said, “I’ve received several attempts on my life that I presume are from his associates.”  
  
“And yet you chose to go away from the protection of the school, with only the knowledge and protection of a wanted man, on the very same night that your own Godfather was intending to meet with the men who supposedly want you dead?”  
  
“In hindsight I can see that leaving the school was in poor judgement,” said Draco dryly.  
  
“And why did Harry Potter accompany you?”  
  
“I asked him to.”  
  
The prosecutor raised an eyebrow and looked over the court meaningfully. “Well. Let us turn to the attack. Do you recognise any of the men who attacked you in this room?”  
  
“Yes, I saw all of the men sitting over there present when they arrived outside of our circle. Except for Peter Pettigrew, I didn’t know it at the time but he was in Sirius’ pocket in his rat form. So I didn’t see him until after the fight was over.”  
  
“But they were initially unable to penetrate your circle?”  
  
“That’s right. Not until Pettigrew woke up.”  
  
“But you did not witness that?”  
  
“No, I was attempting to contact the Headmaster when that happened.”  
  
“It must have been a very powerful circle for five adult wizards to be unable to break through it.”  
  
“Is that a question?”  
  
“Let me rephrase. What exactly were you doing with Harry Potter to produce a circle powerful enough to keep out five adult wizards?”  
  
Draco’s mouth dried up. He glanced at Snape, who looked worried. “Um… just… just a standard Samhain ritual. I don’t know why it was strong enough, maybe they weren’t that powerful. I mean the four of us managed to hold them off until help came.” He did not sound nearly as confident as he wanted to and the faces before him looked very suspicious.  
  
His heart was thumping in angry confusion. None of this was going the way he wanted. He had been on the back foot from the start and he didn’t see how he was going to get anything much about Voldemort out there at this rate.  
  
The prosecutor looked smug. “Can you confirm which of the men there you saw casting curses or hexes at yourself, Professor Snape and Mr Potter.”  
  
Frustrated, Draco pointed out the two men who had been attacking them in the woods and confirmed they had cast Unforgivables and that they had seemed in control of their own actions and before he knew it he was being ushered back out of the hall and it was all over.  
  
He walked dully back to the waiting room feeling useless.  
  
“I know that didn’t go the way you expected,” said Snape.  
  
“They think I’m working with my father, don’t they?”  
  
“I… think they would like to imply that you might be. Which is not quite the same thing.”  
  
Draco kicked at an invisible rock. “It doesn’t matter what I’ve seen. Nobody will listen to me because I’m Lucius Malfoy’s son.”  
  
“He’s their protective blanket. But it won’t last, Draco.” Snape stopped and took him by the shoulders. “The Dark Lord won’t be happy to stay in the shadows forever, people will know that you were telling the truth. It will just take time.”  
  
Draco sighed and nodded. “I know. I just… I got carried away with the idea that I could...”  
  
“Potter is rubbing off on you, remember your house Draco. Remember who we are.”  
  
“I’m not likely to forget that any time soon.”  
  
It was another couple of hours before the trial was halted for the day and they were joined by Hermione and Dumbledore.  
  
“Oh, Draco,” Hermione was fizzing with irritation. “It was awful, you didn’t even see the half of it! They wouldn’t let anyone talk about You-Know-Who, they’ve got their version of the story all worked out and any time anyone tries to go anywhere else they shut them up! I could have cried I was so angry at them.”  
  
“What about Sirius, are they going to let him off?”  
  
“Oh, I think so. I hope so. Professor Lupin’s testimony was after yours and despite a few… well never mind, I think it went well for Sirius any way. The only time they said anything bad about Sirius was when you were in and I think that was more about making you look bad.”  
  
Draco grimaced and Hermione actually took his hands, which was a little awkward but he let her any way.  
  
“It wasn’t your fault, I know you wanted to tell them everything. But they’d never have let you. If you’d tried I hate to think what they might have said to discredit you, the sum up was bad enough as it was.”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
Before she could answer Snape came over and Draco pulled his hands back, slightly embarrassed. “We must get straight back to the school. I have a portkey from the Headmaster.”  
  
“Isn’t he coming too?” asked Hermione.  
  
“He will stay here, the trial should be over by tomorrow evening. He will wait for the verdicts. Come along.”  
  
It was the middle of dinner time when they entered the school, and the noise coming from the Great Hall was even more overwhelming than usual given the edgy solemn quiet of the court rooms. Hermione peered in the door to see who was at the Gryffindor table.  
  
“I don’t see Harry,” she said. “Ron’s there.”  
  
“He’s probably upstairs. Come up with us, you know more than we do and they’ll want to hear how it’s going.”  
  
Hermione looked as if she’d rather say no than go up and deliver less than sterling news, but followed them up to Draco’s room. When they got there Harry and Sirius were eating dinner. Harry sprang up and threw himself at Draco.  
  
“We’ve been so nervous, I don’t even know why. How was it? Is it over? Were you amazing?”  
  
Sirius hovered, half standing, half sitting, looking uncertain.  
  
“Sit down, Black,” Snape said curtly. “The trial won’t be over until at least tomorrow so we’ve no real news.” He turned to Draco and Harry. “I will be going. I presume you have not forgotten that you all have an essay on veritaserum due next week.” With that he disappeared in a swirl of robe.  
  
Harry looked after him and then back at Sirius. “You must be about to get off, if Snape’s in that bad a mood.”  
  
Draco looked at Hermione.  
  
“We think he is,” she said. “We won’t know for sure though. But they don’t seem to like Pettigrew very much, and they seem far more interested in blaming him and Mr. Malfoy for any thing that’s happened that could be tied to You-Know-Who.”  
  
“But you didn’t let them get away with that, right?” said Harry, smiling at Draco.  
  
Draco looked away.  
  
“Harry, you have to understand,” Hermione said. “It just wasn’t that easy.”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“They did everything but all out accuse me of working for my father all along,” said Draco. “They had a hole all ready for me, I wasn’t going to jump in it for them.”  
  
“But….”  
  
Draco grabbed Harry’s hand and squeezed. “They wanted to know what we were doing in the woods, what exactly we were doing in the woods. Why we went there alone. Why I took you with me. What exactly we were doing that made such a powerful circle.”  
  
“You didn’t...”  
  
“I didn’t tell them anything. Not about that and not about the Dark Lord either. It was a complete waste of time. All my being there did was give them a chance to make me look suspicious.”  
  
Draco went over to the table and sat down dispiritedly. “And I’m starving, the food at the Ministry was awful.”  
  
–  
  
The rest of the weekend was quiet, morose even. Not even Harry could pull Draco out of his bad mood and Sirius was monosyllabic waiting to find out if he was pardoned or not. Hermione and Ron spent Sunday with them out of solidarity, using the time to get their homework done.  
  
Harry thought that when it was finally over it would be relief rather than celebration he would feel.  
  
Then finally, in the late afternoon, Professor Dumbledore and Remus Lupin arrived holding a signed pardon for Sirius and conveying the Minister’s insincere apologies that he couldn’t make it himself.  
  
Sirius took the parchment from Remus’ hand with trembling fingers and stared at it. Slowly a smile began to grow on his face and he looked up at Remus with eyes that suddenly looked far younger than Harry had ever seen.  
  
“It’s done?” he said. “Over?”  
  
“Peter got life in Azkaban for the muggles he killed framing you. There should have been some sort of reparations of course, but...,” Remus answer was cut off as Sirius drew in an unsteady breath and suddenly whooped like a boy.  
  
He threw the paper over his shoulder and grabbed Remus with both hands and to the surprise of the entire room kissed him passionately right on the mouth.  
  
Remus made a muffled surprised oof, but didn’t immediately attempt to get away. His hands rested on Sirius’ shoulders a moment before he pushed him gently back.  
  
“Um,” said Sirius when he pulled away. “Sorry, bit over excited.” He grinned at them all, keeping one arm looped around Remus’ shoulders. He extended the other to Harry, “C’mere pup.” He hugged Harry with one arm.  
  
“Congratulations,” said Hermione happily. “I’m so pleased.”  
  
“Yeah, it’s brilliant,” added Ron.  
  
Draco hung back quietly, unnoticed.  
  
“Well,” said the Headmaster. “I shall leave you to your celebrations, but do try and make it to dinner this evening. You too Draco, with Sirius watching over you I’m sure you will be safe enough for one evening out. There are a few announcements you won’t want to miss. ” He turned to Lupin. “Of course you may hear some of them in advance.” And with that he left.  
  
“What was that about?” asked Sirius.  
  
“Ah,” said Lupin, looking slightly embarrassed. “The Ministry was pressuring the school to let them place some new teachers on staff, they heard there were positions vacant. But the Headmaster was adamant they were filled, and he, ah, has persuaded me to take up a teaching post again. At least temporarily. The current werewolf employment laws make it difficult, but he found a bit of a loophole. Employing me on a temporary contract with certain specific agreements... it’s apparently completely legal for me to teach if you just word everything right.”  
  
“That’s wonderful,” cried Hermione. “You’re the only good Defence teacher we’ve ever had!”  
  
“Well, that’s not… well you’ll see. I can’t imagine some of the parents will be happy with it. But to be honest... I rather couldn’t afford to say no.” He looked down at his threadbare trousers and the hole in his right shoe.  
  
“It’s going to be just like old times,” cried Sirius. “Moony, Padfoot and Prongs ride again! Snivellus won’t know what hit him!” He crushed Harry and Remus in his exuberant embrace.  
  
“Do calm down, Sirius,” Remus smiled. “You’re supposed to be a responsible adult now. And I’m a teacher, as is Professor Snape. There will be no pranks.”  
  
Sirius pouted. “But...”  
  
“No. Pranks.” repeated Lupin firmly.  
  
Harry laughed.  
  
“Are you staying at the school then,” Ron asked Sirius.  
  
“I suppose I should check with Dumbledore, but I don’t know where else I’d go really,” answered Sirius. “The flat I was living in before… everything, well that was only rented and it’s long gone. There's my parents house in London, but I'd rather live in a cave.”  
  
“Stay,” said Harry happily. “I want you to stay here.”  
  
Sirius grinned even wider and ruffled Harry’s hair.  
  
–  
  
When they headed down to dinner Remus excused himself to sit at the teachers table, where they were surprised to see another familiar face. They all looked to Ron when they recognised Bill Weasley seated beside Professor McGonagall, looking out of place with his dragon fang earring and a dark red silk shirt unbuttoned slightly lower than was appropriate.  
  
Ron shrugged, “No idea.” He waved and waggled his eyebrows at Bill questioningly, but Bill just smiled and gestured to them to sit down at their house table.  
  
They sat down with Draco ensconced between Harry and Hermione and Sirius in dog form behind them, Draco was looking rather nervous to be eating with the whole school for the first time in weeks.  
  
“If Professor Lupin isn’t the only announcement the Headmaster’s making, then maybe Bill has something to do with the other one,” said Hermione.  
  
“I guess,” said Ron. “But I can’t think what he could be here for. There’s no curses need breaking here.”  
  
“Maybe it’s for more security,” Hermione suggested. “I mean curse breakers have to be pretty good at that sort of thing, right?”  
  
“I suppose,” agreed Ron “Same sort of skill set as an Auror he says, but less rules and better hours.”  
  
“Is that your brother, Ron?” Lavender asked from down the table.  
  
“Yeah,” said Ron.  
  
Lavender giggled and started whispering with Parvati who immediately started giggling too.  
  
Ron frowned at them.  
  
“He’s very good looking,” Draco said thoughtfully.  
  
“Hey!” said Harry and Ron at the same time.  
  
Draco looked at them in surprise. “I just meant, for a Weasley.”  
  
This did not appease Ron. Harry whacked Draco on the arm. “Sorry, he said to Ron. “Can’t take him out in public these days.”  
  
“Hey!” said Draco, rubbing his arm. “It was a purely intellectual comment, I’ve never seen an attractive Weasley before.”  
  
“What about Charlie,” Harry suggested. “He’s pretty hot.”  
  
“Never met him.”  
  
“For Merlin’s sake, not you too,” said Ron. “Stop perving on my brothers, it’s wrong.”  
  
“Charlie is quite hot,” Hermione agreed unexpectedly.  
  
“It’s all that leather,” mulled Harry.  
  
“Argh!” said Ron.  
  
“And the dragons,” said Hermione, a mischievous glint in her eye.  
  
“Dragons?” said Draco with interest.  
  
Fortunately for Ron, the Headmaster stood up at that moment and gestured for silence.  
  
“Good evening all. As I’m sure you may have noticed we have some new faces at the high table. Although one of them may be familiar to the older students,” he indicated Lupin. “Professor Lupin, unfortunately, was only with us for a year teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts before certain unfortunate reactions led to him resigning his position. I have persuaded him to return, but this time to take over from Professor Binns as our new History of Magic teacher.”  
  
Surprise and some stronger reactions ranged around the hall. Clearly not everyone was comfortable with a werewolf returning to the staff, although quite a few people were excited at the idea of not having to listen to Professor Binns any more.  
  
Harry quite clearly heard Lavender say, “But he’s a werewolf!” at the same time as Ron said, “History? But...”  
  
Dumbledore raised his voice. “Let me make it quite clear to you all that I am fully aware that Professor Lupin is a werewolf and the school will take all necessary precautions at the full moon.” Professor Lupin looked deeply embarrassed, sinking slightly in his chair. “Fortunately we have an excellent potions master on staff who is more than capable of supplying us with Wolfsbane Potion and there is absolutely no need to be concerned. This school has no tolerance for prejudice of any kind, and I suggest that you take any concerns to your Heads of House or to our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, who will gladly explain the facts to those who may have not covered werewolves yet in class. Professor Weasley has kindly agreed to take a sabbatical from his job as a curse breaker for Gringotts to take over from Professor Hartlebury.”  With this he gestured to Bill Weasley, who stood up and gave a nod to the assembled students.  
  
“I think I definitely need to go and ask him about werewolves,” said Lavender with a thrilled look.  
  
“Now, I hope you will all join me in a round of applause for our new teachers and for Professor Binns who has served the school for a long and distinguished time. He will remain with us to assist in teaching OWL and NEWT level students for the rest of the year as he prepares to enjoy his retirement.”  
  
Dumbledore led the loud applause, since even those who weren’t sure about Professor Lupin were rather taken with their young, cool Defence teacher and the prospect of never listening to Professor Binns lecture again. Professor Binns drifted mournfully by the staff table.  
  
“And now there are just one or two more things before I allow you to satisfy your stomachs. As you may or may not be aware there has been a trial this weekend, at which an unfairly accused man was finally pardoned for terrible deeds he had no hand in. You may know of Sirius Black as the man who escaped from Azkaban two years ago, I hope you can put away any lingering fears from that difficult year. Mr Black has been pronounced an innocent man and you must not worry should he be seen around the school. He is a guest of mine and we are well aware of his presence and welcome it.”  
  
Harry looked at Padfoot who was sat quietly still behind them. He reached back and ruffled the hair behind his ears, and Sirius licked his hand back.  
  
But Dumbledore had more still, “And finally, there have been some changes made to our class structure and you will be receiving new timetables after dinner. You will note that most of you will have one additional class, either Muggle Studies or Wizarding Culture depending on your background. This is a compulsory class, introduced as part of our new drive to increase understanding and tolerance. I hope you will give it your best attention and focus. Now… let us eat.”  
  
The Headmaster sat down and the room erupted into discussion as the food appeared before them.

 


	19. New Teachers

**Mon 24th Nov**  
  
As it turned out, of the four of them, only Harry and Hermione had anything new in their timetables. Ron and Draco were already taking Muggle Studies as one of their OWLs and so didn’t need to take the now compulsory one session a week Muggle Studies class that the rest of the Wizarding born students had to go to. But Harry and Hermione had lost their Friday morning free period to the new Wizarding Culture class all those raised by muggles had to attend.  
  
Harry was feeling rather grouchy about it, he liked sleeping in on Friday’s. But all the same the new class sounded interesting, it would be nice to not only find things out when they were actually happening to him. And maybe it would be useful to get some deeper insight into the world Draco had grown up in. Even though the Weasley’s were as pureblooded as the Malfoy’s, he felt like it was a part of the Wizarding world he had never properly understood.  
  
He was also a little disappointed that he wouldn’t have any classes with Professor Lupin, he and Ron had dropped History of Magic as soon as they could. But it would still be nice to have him at the school again and he was pretty sure Sirius would appreciate it and might be more likely to stick around. He liked the idea of having his own little family here at Hogwarts, his best friends and his Dad’s best friends all in one place.  
  
The Daily Prophet had arrived at breakfast on Monday morning and he and Draco had poured over it together. The main headline was Sirius being pardoned and while the Ministry had kept any news of Voldemort out of the papers they clearly didn’t have complete control of the Prophet as the article was quite scathing on the lack of a trial and the fact that an innocent wizard had been kept in Azkaban for so long. There was also a lot about the Noble House of Black and how rich and important they were, which Harry didn’t especially think Sirius would like much after what he’d said about his family.  
  
It was only as they read the coverage of the rest of the trial that Harry realised that with the news about Sirius and Wormtail, they had forgotten to ask about the other Death Eaters. According to the paper Wormtail and the five other Death Eaters were suspected of working for Lucius Malfoy and the whole thing had been a plot to kidnap Harry and Draco. The only mention of Voldemort was in suggesting that they had all met via their association with You-Know-Who before he had been defeated and were perhaps seeking some sort of revenge on Harry for his death. There was a whole section on how Lucius Malfoy had been pardoned originally and more about how the Ministry obviously wasn’t very good at telling the guilty from the innocent, followed by a whole section on how You-Know-Who was definitely dead despite any rumours to the contrary.  
  
Apparently Fudge had made a speech after the trial. There was a photo of him next to a summary with quotes.  
  
“There has been a terrible injustice and I will be looking deep into how we were misled. But there is no doubt that Lucius Malfoy is a cunning and well connected man who has pulled the wool over our eyes for far too long. We even suspect his involvement in the unfortunate mis-trial of Sirius Black, done no doubt to protect his right hand man, Peter Pettigrew. But aside from Malfoy, whom we have several very promising leads on, this band of misfits have now found justice and will be safely locked away for many years.”  
  
“What a load of rubbish,” sniffed Draco. “They fell over themselves to forgive my father after the Dark Lord disappeared and he hadn’t a clue Pettigrew was working for the same side as him until last year.”  
  
“Where do you suppose they are now?” Harry wondered. “Now that they’re not at the Manor.”  
  
Draco shrugged. “I suggested a few places to Dumbledore, but I doubt they’d have gone anywhere obvious. Somewhere in Britain, somewhere posh enough for my father to tolerate.”  
  
“The Daily Prophet acts as if everything's all done now, when it’s only just beginning,” Harry sighed. “I just hope we have time.”  
  
“Time?”  
  
“I’m happy, I’d just like to be happy for a bit longer before it all kicks off.”  
  
Draco took his hand.  
  
–  
  
It was as quickly as Monday evening that Remus found himself with a sofa full of Sirius Black in the rooms he’d only just moved into last night. The sofa along with all the other odd furniture belonged to the school, he had brought only a handful of books and clothes and what few personal possessions he’d managed to hang onto over the years. The last two years in particular had not been kind to his remaining scraps. When the Court summons owl had found him he had been staying in a run down shack in Wales that had kept him all right over the summer months, but was becoming increasingly unfit for purpose as winter drew in and as his monthly changes wreaked havoc on the infrastructure. He had been forced to ask for an advance on his salary just to get serviceable clothes, teaching robes and other necessary items from Diagon Alley before they Apparated up to the school.  
  
But all of that was subsumed by the warm comforting glow he presently felt at having a pardoned Sirius Black sprawled across his sofa, drinking firewhiskey and calling him Moony while grinning at him like the teenager he had once been.  
  
Sirius was looking well, far better than he was in fact. His short time at the school and his recent turn of fortune had done wonders in transforming him half way back to the twenty year old young man Remus remembered him as. And unlike Remus there was no grey yet showing in his hair.  
  
They had written a little over the last year and a half, while Sirius had been on the run. But it had been difficult, circumstances being what they were for both of them.  
  
“I’m glad you’re here,” Sirius told him for about the fourth time. “I’ve been at sea with everything going on with Harry. I’ve no idea what I’m doing and he likes you, you’re sensible, you can give him advice. Better advice than I can anyway.”  
  
“What exactly is going on with Harry?” Remus asked. “Dumbledore hasn’t really told me anything, just that Harry’s been having some problems lately. It was part of his persuasion when he was talking me into the job, I admit it worked. I hated to leave him, felt like I was letting James down. But you’re his godfather, not me.”  
  
“You’d have done a much better job. What’ve I done? Scared him half to death, bought him a broomstick, nearly got him kissed by Dementors and now every time I talk to him I put my foot in it some how. Lily and James would have my hide if they were here.”  
  
“Yes, well. But what actually is going on, Pads?”  
  
“Gay,” said Sirius succinctly. “And not dealing very well with it either. And what did I do, told him I’d once shagged a few blokes but then changed my mind. Made him think I didn’t approve. Merlin, why don’t I think before I open my mouth, Moony?”  
  
Remus blinked at him, trying to process two different things at once and not sure what to say about either. “You shagged… when did that happen?”  
  
“Well, after we graduated, obviously. I was too busy with my massive and embarrassingly obvious crush on you at school to shag any other boys then. Since that was never going to happen I had a go elsewhere, but well… wasn’t the same.”  
  
“What?” Remus spluttered and nearly dropped his tea cup. “You… what?”  
  
Sirius looked at him. “What? Am I breaking the code, I know we made a point of never really talking about it.”  
  
“You had a crush... on me?” Remus was sure he had misunderstood in some fundamental way.  
  
“Of course I did. Sixth and seventh year. We never talked about it cause it would have been weird.” Sirius looked at him with a slight flush to his cheeks. “I know it was a long time ago, but surely you can’t have forgotten.”  
  
“I haven’t forgotten anything. You never once said anything about having a crush on me. I would definitely have remembered that.”  
  
Sirius was looking worried now. “Well of course I never said anything, but it was obvious wasn’t it. I mean I was always lying in your lap and licking you.”  
  
“Sirius, you did that to James as well, all the time.”  
  
“Well, yeah. But that was different. I never had a crush on James. Well except for those couple of months in fifth year when I was confused. But you must have known, I was sure...”  
  
“Sirius I swear on my life I did not have the faintest of a clue, I just thought you were... prone to being over affectionate.” Remus was slightly losing the plot as his head flooded with a hundred moments from their past that suddenly needed entirely recategorised. “What about all those girls you slept with?”  
  
“Well that was just sex obviously, in fact it was mostly just blow jobs. I mean a boy has needs after all.”  
  
Remus shook his head, looking dazed.  
  
“Oh Merlin,” said Sirius sitting up. “See! I’ve done it again. I can’t have a single conversation without bollocksing it up some how. You really didn’t know?”  
  
“No,” Remus answered, feeling guilty some how that he hadn’t. Even though he couldn’t see at all looking back how he could have been expected to.  
  
“And now I’ve made everything awkward, just when I finally got you back.” Sirius looked miserable.  
  
“No,” said Remus, coming over to the sofa and sitting down next to him. “Don’t think that. I’m just a little… surprised.”  
  
“I really did think you knew,” said Sirius looking up at him mournfully. “I thought we were being all boys club about it. You know, don’t ask, don’t tell and all that. I mean we shared a dorm, I didn’t want you to feel awkward by having to tell me straight out that you weren’t interested. And… I didn’t want to stop getting away with lying in your lap.” He gave a little smile.  
  
“Pads, sometimes you are the biggest idiot.” Remus rubbed his hand over his face.  
  
“But you still like me, right?” Sirius butted his shoulder up against him. “I mean even if I probably am a big poofter.”  
  
“I thought you told Harry you changed your mind.”  
  
“Well, I didn’t so much change my mind as decide if I couldn’t have what I wanted I may as well just find some girl who would put up with me. Seemed safer. Not that it mattered either way in the end. But that’s what I mean, I should have explained better to him. In a lot of ways I was just as confused as he was, I should have been able to help.”  
  
Remus looked thoughtful and for a long while there was silence. Sirius got up and poured himself another firewhiskey and this time brought a second over for Lupin. Remus accepted it and studied the liquid silently, swirling it in the glass.  
  
“What are you thinking?” Sirius asked. “Are you upset with me?”  
  
“I’m thinking that there’s something I ought to tell you, that I ought to have told you a long time ago.”  
  
“What is it?”  
  
Remus downed his drink. “I’m gay.”  
  
“What?” Sirius actually did drop his drink and it landed with a dull thunk and spilled over the wooden floor.  
  
“You and James always seemed so relentlessly heterosexual, I thought it was better just not to say anything.” Remus laughed lightly. “After all what did it matter, I could never risk having a relationship with my… problem.” He looked up at Sirius. “And besides… I thought if you knew you might not lie in my lap quite so often.”  
  
Sirius stared at him. “I… Merlin’s balls… Moony. I thought you liked girls?”  
  
Lupin smiled at him. “And when did I ever, even once, show any interest in a girl.”  
  
“We just thought you were shy. James used to come up with all these plans to set you up and I…. ah, I used to sabotage them all behind his back. Actually a fair few of the girls I went with were girls James was trying to set you up with. He never picked anyone who would have suited you any way. I was saving you from them.”  
  
Remus laughed at that and Sirius grinned uncertainly back. “What a pair of oblivious idiots we were,” said Remus with a sigh.  
  
“Did you ever...” Sirius blushed slightly as he fumbled his words. “I mean… it’s been a long time, you must have...”  
  
“What? Done something about it?”  
  
“Well, yeah.”  
  
“Occasionally. Nothing serious ever. I didn’t want to get too close, not with… my complications. As you say, a man has needs. And there are places you can go where nobody is looking for anything more than that. Bars, clubs…”  
  
“Moony, you shock me,” Sirius’ reply was light, but his eyes were dark.  
  
Remus looked at him, remembering flashes of past trysts. The room suddenly seemed as claustrophobic as some of those awkward but passionate moments in dark corners and toilet cubicles. Sweat and hands and loud music and tiled floors and the smell of sex. His mouth was dry and Sirius seemed very close. He remembered the feel of Sirius’ mouth on his own only yesterday afternoon. How often had Sirius kissed him, back when they were young, and he had never for a moment thought it offered anything beyond friendship.  
  
He didn’t know what to do with this.  
  
He stood up a little too quickly and had to pause as his head spun. As soon as he could he stepped away, back to his chair.  
  
“Moony?” Sirius’ voice was uncertain again.  
  
“Harry,” said Remus firmly. “He’s gay then, that’s what Dumbledore was talking about?”  
  
When he turned to face Sirius again there was a brief acknowledgement between them that they were letting this lie for now.  
  
As Sirius filled him in properly on what had been happening over the last few weeks the tension in the room morphed into a paired concern over Harry. A safer subject for the time being.  
  
–  
  
The week went by quietly enough. Ron seemed to find being taught by his brother inconceivably awkward, but as far as everyone else was concerned Bill was a great teacher. Even if it was odd calling him Professor Weasley, and even if half the girls in the school seemed to have developed a massive crush on him such that there were usually several of them hanging around the corridors outside his classroom at all times. It was like Professor Lockhart all over again, except much more understandable.  
  
Harry was rather pleased that, even though Draco clearly slightly fancied Bill, he wasn’t jealous. Perhaps he was getting the hang of all of this after all. His emotions had been all over the place since Voldemort’s return, but he finally felt like he might be getting back on an even keel again. Life wasn’t perfect, not by a long shot. But he felt like he could perhaps cope with it any way.  
  
Sirius was still guard dogging Draco during the day, but they saw less of him at mealtimes and in the evenings than before. Presumably he was taking advantage of the opportunity to spend some time catching up with Professor Lupin.  
  
Hermione was voluble in her praise of Professor Lupin’s History classes. Draco somewhat less so, which had led to a stern and trying discussion about prejudice against werewolves over dinner on Thursday evening.  
  
“I just think it’s risky,” Draco had protested. “They have urges.”  
  
“I’m having an urge right now,” Harry snarled. “But, much like Professor Lupin, I am perfectly capable of not acting on my desire to punch you in the face.”  
  
“Look I’m not saying that most of the time they aren’t...”  
  
“Will you stop saying they!”  
  
“What do you want me to say!?”  
  
“Him, we are talking about a man, a man that I know and care about! He spent seven years studying at this school as a werewolf and one year as a teacher and not once did anybody get hurt!” Harry purposefully ignored what had happened the night they had found and lost Pettigrew.  
  
“That we know of.”  
  
“Oh, for Merlin’s sake.”  
  
“I’m just saying that they’re hardly going to advertise it if anything did go wrong.”  
  
Harry took a deep breath. “Look, we’re just going to have to deal with this.”  
  
“I thought I was dealing with it fine, I’m not doing anything to stop him teaching, I’m not saying anything in class. I think I’m being very fucking accommodating of the fact that a creature the Ministry considers incredibly dangerous is here teaching children!”  
  
Harry bit back another angry retort and continued with his previous thought. “I mean we are just going to have to deal with this the same way we dealt your Hagrid issues.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“You’re just going to have to spend some proper time getting to know him.”  
  
“I don’t...”  
  
“For me,” said Harry firmly. “Because I am asking you to.”  
  
Draco glared at him and he glared back. The glaring continued for several minutes until there was a knock at the door.  
  
Draco gave an extra hard glare and broke off to answer it only to find himself face to face with the object of their discussion.  
  
“Ah, hello Draco. I was led to believe I might find Harry having dinner here.”  
  
Harry came over and nudged Draco aside. “I’m here, Professor Lupin. Do you want to come in?”  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
As Professor Lupin came into the room Draco glared at Harry again behind his back.  
  
They all sat down at the table, where the remains of the boys dinner promptly disappeared at a rap on the table from Draco.  
  
“Were you wanting me for something in particular, Professor,” Harry asked politely.  
  
“Ah, no. Not really. Just thought… well you’re not in my class and I don’t see you in the Great Hall very often...”  
  
“No, I eat here quite a lot. Draco’s on his own otherwise, especially now Sirius can eat in the Great Hall.”  
  
“Of course. Ah… I thought you ought to know that Sirius filled me in on… um, recent events.”  
  
Harry flushed.  
  
“Oh, no need to feel embarrassed. I think Sirius needed a friendly ear, he feels like he hasn’t been very helpful and he thought perhaps I might… well, that doesn’t matter. I wanted to come and just let you know that you don’t have to hide anything from me. I know the gist of it all and the details are only important if you want to talk about them. And if you do I’m happy to listen. And that goes for either of you.” He smiled at Draco. “It’s far from public knowledge, but after talking to Sirius and thinking it over myself I thought perhaps it might help you to know that, well, I’m gay too.”  
  
He said it matter of factly, but his fingers were tense. Draco didn’t think Harry noticed that though, Harry was staring at Lupin’s face and his eyes had gone almost as wide as his mouth.  
  
He made gold fish shapes for a moment before stammering, “Really?”  
  
“Yes, really.”  
  
“Did… did my Dad know? Sirius never said anything?”  
  
“Ah, well, I’m afraid I never told either of them. I was afraid, much like I suppose you are, that people would look at me differently. Sirius and your Dad were my best friends, but I thought perhaps it might be one secret too many for them to put up with.  Silly really, looking back. I know now I could have told them anything and we’d still have been friends. Especially since it turns out… well. But it’s hard to be that secure when you’re only just dealing with it all yourself. It was a long time before I told anyone at all. Which I regret now. I think that as difficult as it may have been you’ll find that it’s better that your friends know.”  
  
“Yeah, I think I’ve kinda come to realise that. Took a while though,” Harry admitted.  
  
“You don’t tell people though?” Draco asked.  
  
“No… but I already have one thing going against me. It makes it harder. You keep one secret it seems easy to keep more, can get to be a habit. I don’t keep it a secret on purpose any more, it’s just that it rarely comes up.”  
  
“Did Sirius tell you about Justin?” asked Harry.  
  
“Justin… oh the boy who was suspended. Yes, I was told about that. The Headmaster is certain he can get it overturned. You do know it wasn’t just because he was gay though, not strictly speaking.”  
  
“Smith lied about him,” Harry huffed. “Made up some story about being propositioned or something. He wouldn’t have done that if Justin hadn’t been gay.”  
  
“No, I suppose not. There’s a strong conservative streak runs through the wizarding world. It can turn nasty when it feels threatened. I know that well enough.”  
  
“The papers have already had a go at Draco for being with me.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“It was a gossip column,” Draco explained. “Some reporter overheard some of Harry’s dorm mates talking about us in Hogsmeade.”  
  
“I didn’t hear about that, I’m sorry.”  
  
“I don’t want to think about it,” said Harry. “It’s done, it doesn’t matter now. Just… I’m glad you’re okay with this.” He took Draco’s hand. “Sirius didn’t take it as well.”  
  
“Don’t think for a second Sirius has a problem with you and Draco, Harry. He doesn’t always express himself well. He’s broken hearted at the thought that he let you think he disapproved in any way, I swear it.”  
  
–  
  
Sirius was in his room again when he got back. “How did it go?”  
  
“All right, bit awkward.”  
  
Remus busied himself making a cup of tea. Sirius had shown up in his rooms at some point every evening this week. On Tuesday not until quite late, ostensibly to borrow a book, but Remus suspected more to make sure Remus still was okay with what they’d discussed the night before. Wednesday he had followed him back after dinner and drawn him into remembrances of Marauders past adventures. He had to admit Sirius had a knack for making the most awkward of situations comfortable, something about  his dog like nature and physical ease. It was hard to be tense when the other person in the room was relaxed. As a person who had always been inclined to anxiety it was one of the things that drew him to the man.  
  
“Do you think it helped?”  
  
“Yes, I think so. Funny thing though...”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Telling you and Harry… I think if it’s helped anyone it’s helped me. Not telling people became a bit of a habit, it’s a relief actually. Saying it.” He sat down in his chair with his tea and Sirius came over and sat by his feet as if that was the most sensible place to put himself.  
  
Remus sipped his tea and they considered each other.  
  
“What are you thinking,” Remus asked him.  
  
“I feel like you grew up and I didn’t,” Sirius admitted.  
  
“You’ve grown up more than you think,” Remus told him.  
  
“Maybe. I slide from feeling old, properly old like an old man, and feeling like I’m still a teenager.”  
  
Sirius sat his chin on Remus’ knee and without thought Remus let his fingers tangle in his dark hair. It was getting long again, but like it used to, thick and soft and slightly wavy. It was only after he had already done it that he wondered if it was appropriate. Sirius just scooted closer and curled one arm round Remus’ calf, pressing his cheek into Remus’ leg.  
  
Remus thought about all the times they had sat like this as teenagers, Sirius acting like a dog wanting petted even in his human form and Remus happy to oblige. Neither ever considering that the other might want more than friendly comfort, even though apparently Sirius had. And so had he. And now he knew that Sirius did… or had. Did Sirius realise quite how much that interest had been reciprocated? He hadn’t been entirely clear on that point, on all the nights spent quietly fantasising about touching every inch of Sirius with his hands and his mouth and then carefully putting away all those thoughts in the daytime so as not to ruin everything.  
  
But now.  
  
His hand found the nape of Sirius’ neck and teased along his hairline and down his spine to the collar of his shirt.  
  
What were they doing now?  
  
Sirius turned his face into Remus’ leg, his mouth against his trousers, and looked up at him. Remus let his hand drop away.  
  
“Moony?”  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“I think you should put your tea down.”  
  
Remus looked at his mostly full mug, steam spiralling from it. He placed it on the table next to him even as he asked, “Why?”  
  
Sirius came up onto his knees between Remus’ legs, his grey eyes firm. “Because otherwise you’re going to spill it,” he said, and then he tugged Remus forward so that he could kiss him.  
  
He was right, Remus would definitely have spilled his tea.  
  
There was a brief battle over which way they were headed as Sirius tried to climb onto the chair and then Remus was pulled off it and onto his lap. His weight rolled them back and after an awkward moment where Sirius got his legs trapped underneath him they found themselves sprawled on the rug, Remus most of the way on top and their legs tangled together. They had let their bodies figure all this out, their minds too occupied with the feel of a kiss too long waited for. Wet and messy and deep and delicious.  
  
When it finally broke Sirius went immediately for the fastenings of Remus’ robe. With only a flicker of discarded worry Remus helped him and they scrambled out of their clothes, exchanging desperate kisses in between.  
  
As they struggled out of their trousers Sirius panted, “Bed. Bed, Moony?”  
  
“Yes, yes.” Remus pulled him up and they pressed together in only their underwear, distracted from their goal by the opportunity to press together at a new and more naked angle. They were both hard and they both had the same thought as hands grasped buttocks and pressed in, grinding against each other as they leaned their foreheads together and gasped.  
  
Then, bed apparently forgotten again, Sirius was dropping to his knees and pressing his face into Remus’ groin, his mouth hot against the fabric even as his hands reached to remove it.  
  
“Sirius,” Remus tangled his fingers back into his now wild hair, as that familiar tongue explored unfamiliar territory. It had been years since anyone had done this for him and every time he had, at the very peak of desire, always imagined looking down and seeing that familiar face. So often that it was hard to believe this wasn’t just another fantasy. Sirius’ eyes flicked up to meet his and this was definitely happening, as Sirius swallowed down his cock and then had to pull back with a jerk, his eyes watering as he pushed himself too far. Remus laughed, a bright and carefree laugh that he hadn’t heard from himself in a long time. He tugged Sirius away. “Come to the bed,” he told him. “It’ll be easier lying down.”  
  
Sirius let him pull him into the bedroom, shedding his own underwear on the way, and they tumbled onto the bed together. Once there Sirius renewed his determination and kissed and licked and nibbled his way back down Remus’ chest to his original target. Remus groaned delightfully as Sirius went back to exploring just how far down his throat he could force his not inconsiderably sized cock. Remus always had had large hands, Sirius thought with amusement, as he swallowed convulsively before pulling back and trying again. He didn’t know what it was about sucking cock, but he just loved the challenge of trying to fit it all in. It had helped in the past that it had been easier to imagine it was Remus’ cock when he couldn’t see the other persons face. Now that it was, he was even more determined to fit the whole thing down his throat, saliva running liberally down his chin and soaking Remus’ balls, tears wetting his cheeks with the natural reaction of someone intentionally fucking his own gag reflex.  
  
“Sirius, Merlin, fuck,” Remus gasped. “You’re going to suffocate yourself. You don’t have to...”  
  
Sirius pulled off long enough to choke out, “I want to.” And then he dove back, exploring a slightly different angle. Oh yes, that was it. With one convulsive swallow his lips closed around the base of Remus’ cock. His throat deliciously full.  
  
Remus moaned, his hands fisted in the sheets. He couldn’t look away from the sight of Sirius swallowing his cock to the root. Trust Sirius to be better at this than anyone he’d ever had, always top of the class without even trying. Although from the tears on his face this was taking some effort.  
  
Sirius began pulling back to the tip and then plunging down again, his tongue swirling wonderfully around the shaft, flicking over the tip, his own moans of pleasure vibrating over it all. Soon Remus was thrusting back, finding it harder and harder to keep his eyes open, as he came closer and closer.  
  
“Pads...mmm… Pads I’m gonna...”  
  
In response Sirius sped up, losing a bit of depth to be able to move faster and tighter. Still refusing to use his hands, which were planted firmly either side of Remus’ hips.  
  
Remus did close his eyes now, his muscles starting to clench. At the last he couldn’t help himself but grab Sirius head firmly with one hand, forcing him down hard as he came, feeling his throat convulse hard around his cock as he spurted into that welcome tightness. Yelling out Sirius’ name loud enough that anyone passing in the hall would have been in no doubt what was going on.  
  
As Remus released his hold on his hair, Sirius rolled away and onto his back, swallowing and coughing a bit.  
  
Remus panted for a moment, coming back to himself, and then rolled over, “Merlin Pads, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have...”  
  
But before he could continue to apologise Sirius was rolling back and mashing their mouths together. Kissing him deeply and thoroughly.  He pulled away, “That was bloody brilliant, Moony. Gods, I’ve wanted to do that for so long.” And Sirius was rolling them further so that he was sprawled on top of Remus. “Wanted you so long.” Kissing him wetly. “Still want you.” He was hard and eager still. “Please, can I?” His knees were already pushing under Remus’ thighs, one hand rubbing against Remus’ balls, his fingers just grazing the soft skin behind them. “Have you?”  
  
When Remus looked at him his eyes were soft and hopeful and excited at the same time. Remus nodded with a small smile. “Yes I have, and yes, you can. Although I hope you have a little more self control with this than you did sucking my cock.”  
  
Sirius laughed and Remus laughed with him. “It’s been a while?”  
  
Again Remus nodded. “Four or five years,” he admitted. “But it must be longer for you.”  
  
Sirius groaned. “Gods, so long,” he said in deep frustration. “So fucking long it feels like a lifetime.” His fingers dipped lower and he pressed softly against the object of his interest.  
  
Remus hummed with arousal, his eyes growing less languid. “You ever let anyone fuck you?”  
  
“All these bad words, Moony. Didn’t know you had it in you.”  
  
“You’d be surprised what I’ve had in me,” Remus answered, his voice seductive. “Have you?”  
  
Sirius gasped, his cock jerking. All of his fantasies had Moony as the eager, inexperienced one, embarrassed and nervous, but willing to learn. With a sudden shift of paradigm he realised the other man had years of experience on him, and the thought was not unwelcome. “No,” he replied finally. “I always topped for that.”  
  
Remus smiled, “At least you know what you’re doing then.” And he tipped his hips up, grabbing a pillow and stuffing it underneath him as he let his knees fall wider.  
  
Sirius forgot to breath for a second at the casually wanton move.  
  
“Lubricans,” Remus muttered, pulling the spell off wandlessly, speaking of regular use.  
  
Sirius’ fingers were suddenly so slick and wet that it took no pressure at all to slide the first one in. Remus was tight around him, firm but not overly tense. Grasping. He felt dizzy with desire and had to grab hold of his cock firmly to prevent himself really acting like a teenager and coming far too soon.  
  
He found himself using his old trick of running through whatever charms he could pull out of his distracted brain in alphabetical order to keep himself from straying too close to the edge as he watched Remus pant and squirm under him. “Accio, Aguamenti...” Exploring and stretching him with his finger. “Ascendare, Alohomora… oh yes.” Opening him up, he pulled out and slid two fingers back in. He was alternating between squeezing his own cock tightly at the base and stroking it firmly. “Anapneo, Aparecium….” Oh if he could have revealed Remus’ secret years ago.  
  
He was startled by a foot hooking around his neck and pulling him down. Remus reached out for him with an arm as well and pulled him close enough to kiss. He let go of his cock to support himself as their mouths met again. His cock butting blindly against skin then sliding up the crease of Remus inside leg. Sirius’ fingers pushed deep inside until they couldn’t go further and Remus’ grunted into his mouth and clenched, the tip of his hips and the depth of his kiss all showing his approval.  
  
Sirius twisted and thrust with his fingers, feeling the body under his give.  
  
Remus broke the kiss with a tug on his hair. “Enough, want you inside me now.”  
  
“Are you sure...”  
  
“Now Pads! I’m a big boy, I can take it,” his smile was wicked.  
  
Sirius’ mouth was dry and again he was afraid he wouldn’t last. “Arresto Momentum, Ascendio, Avis...” This was nothing like he had imagined, it was a hundred times better. A thousand times. The head of his cock found it’s place. “Babulus, Baubillious, Bella Barba, Brevitas...” Watching Moony’s face for any sign he was hurting him he let himself push forward. “Cantis, Carpe Retractum, Cave Inimicum, Colloportus...” His slow determined slide suddenly sabotaged when Moony wrapped both legs and arms around him and jerked him forward with a satisfied growl and gasp.  
  
Sirius clung to his few scraps of composure as the firm heat surrounded him, his eyes locked on those of the man under him.  
  
“To penetrate,” Remus whispered, “you must allow yourself to be encompassed.”  
  
Sirius laughed, “Are you quoting books at me? Now of all moments?”  
  
Remus just grinned and slightly loosened his grip so that Sirius could draw back a little and thrust back in.  
  
Sirius made it past Engorgio only with effort and when he hit Glisseo his brain folded on him and there were no more thoughts available past how good it felt to slam harder and faster, panting, sweating and trembling, his muscles burning.  
  
“Yes,” Remus whispered to him. “Yes, do it. Come for me.”  
  
And he did, hard and gasping and seeing stars.  
  
And then with a howl he pulled out and grabbed at his leg. “Ah, bastard, bastard, ah!”  
  
“Wha?”  
  
“Cramp! Cramp!!”  
  
And Remus dissolved into laughter and rolled over to help him and through his pain.

Sirius wanted it to always be like this. Laughing and fucking and never ever having to leave this man ever again.  
  
–  
  
Sirius and Remus awoke just in time for breakfast on Friday morning, but Remus sent him off with a swat.  
  
“One look at our faces and every person with half a brain in the Great Hall will know our business. And I’m not quite ready for that. So go and have breakfast with the Malfoy boy.”  
  
“But Remus,” Sirius pouted, hanging on him.  
  
“Go on, make yourself useful elsewhere.”  
  
“Can I come back tonight?”  
  
Remus laughed. “You damn well better.”  
  
Sirius grinned from ear to ear and kissed him exuberantly before ducking out of the room with a quick glance up and down the hall that would have immediately cast suspicion had anyone actually been there to see him.  
  
Remus shook his head, still not quite able to believe things had happened so quickly. Then he laughed at himself, “If you consider twenty years of waiting quick!” He busied himself getting back into a scholarly frame of mind.


	20. The Dursleys

**Sunday 30th November**  
  
The final discussion before the School Governors Meeting was held in the Headmasters Office. Draco, Hermione and Harry were the only students present. Draco because half the meeting was about him, Harry because he didn’t want to be left out the way he had been over the trial and Hermione because as promised she had been working hard to research anything that might help Justin, and of course as soon as she had heard about Narcissa’s demands had simply doubled her efforts to include finding precedents for Draco refusing to go home.  
  
Professor Dumbledore seemed to have discovered that preventing Hermione from helping, if there was a book within reach that might be useful, was an impossible task. She had sheaves of notes in front of her, colour coded and indexed.  
  
Completing the group were Professor Snape and Professor Sprout, the two boys Heads of House.  
  
“Mr Smith is required to speak,” Professor Sprout was saying. “His parents are the only people who could have refused permission and they have not done so. I’m not entirely sure where they stand. When I spoke to them they were…” she paused. “I had the impression that there was some disagreement between them that they did not want to discuss in front of me.”  
  
“Have we managed to make any progress with the boy?” asked Professor Dumbledore.  
  
Hermione made a small noise and the teachers looked over at her. “I think,” she said. “That he won’t be causing any more problems.”  
  
Professor Snape raised an eyebrow. “And what makes you think that, Miss Granger?”  
  
“He’s been impossible for me to get anything out of lately,” added Professor Sprout.  
  
“I think he will be just as quiet tomorrow,” Hermione said with a pleased smile.  
  
Harry wondered what she had done. Ron was right, she could be a little scary sometimes.  
  
Once the meeting was finished he cornered her and tried to get to the truth.  
  
“I didn't do anything,” she said primly. “Although it may be possible that certain members of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team may have misconstrued some theoretical things that I said regarding unfortunate uses of standard charms.”  
  
Draco looked impressed. “I think the debate club is bringing out her latent Slytherin side,” he commented to Harry over dinner.  
  
  
**Monday 1st Dec**  
  
As only students who had been specifically asked to speak were allowed to attend the School Governors Board Meeting, they had to wait until it was over to find out what had happened.  
  
Sirius walked Draco up to Professor Dumbledore’s office after dinner at his usual Monday meeting time. The Headmaster had not been at dinner, so the meeting must have run longer than expected.  
  
“I’m sorry, Draco,” said the Headmaster solemnly once they had sat down. “The School Board considered our case, but as long as your mother remains legally untouched by the allegations surrounding your father her wishes are considered paramount. She is your legal guardian and a very persuasive woman. The school must relinquish you into her care at the end of term and any attempt to keep you here would be perilously close to declaring ourselves above the law. She would be within her rights to send the Aurors in to remove you and arrest anyone involved.”  
  
Draco sat silently. He was not surprised. He had hoped maybe… but, really, he had known well enough himself that until he came of majority his mother’s will would prevail. Legally at least.  
  
“I understand,” he said finally. “Thank you for trying, Professor.”  
  
“Draco… I do not think she means you harm.”  
  
Draco did not reply to that.  
  
–  
  
“I won’t let you just go off with her,” Harry said firmly. “I won’t. It’s not safe.”  
  
Draco took Harry’s hand and squeezed it.  
  
“Let’s think about it logically,” said Hermione from the other side of the table. “You have to leave the school. They have to see you onto the Hogwarts Express. But the school’s duty of care ends once you leave the train at Kings Cross. Either as soon as you’re met by your parents or as soon as you leave platform 9 ¾, whichever happens first.”  
  
“My Mother will be there on the platform to meet me, she won’t risk not getting me straight from the train,” said Draco.  
  
“What if she doesn’t see you leave the train,” said Harry thoughtfully.  
  
“You mean the invisibility cloak?” said Draco.  
  
“But that won’t work, or rather it would to hide him, but if no-one sees him get off the train then it becomes the school’s fault that he went missing while on the train,” said Hermione.  
  
“So I have to be seen getting off the train, and preferably by my mother so she can’t claim I never got to Kings Cross, but I have to somehow get away between her seeing me and actually reaching me on the platform?”  
  
“Exactly,” said Hermione.  
  
“But then what?” said Harry.  
  
“I can’t just go and stay somewhere else,” said Draco. “I still have the trace on me, so I can’t risk performing magic outside of school without being located. I’m not old enough to book a room on my own without permission and even if I did manage it word would get back to my mother. And if anyone associated with my father or Voldemort spotted me or heard I was out of school...”  
  
“There must be somewhere,” muttered Harry.  
  
But despite a multitude of ideas, growing crazier yet after Ron joined them in trying to think of something, they couldn’t think of anything that would be reliable enough. Anywhere Draco went there was the potential that Death Eaters could get to him and he wouldn’t risk endangering anyone else by his presence. Ron was rather flummoxed at this apparent care for the safety of others, but as Draco pointed out, dead people can’t protect you any more.  
  
The week passed in desperation until on Friday morning a post owl arrived for Harry as he was eating breakfast. He almost didn’t recognise the writing, but the stamp and post mark on the envelope clued him in. The letter had been posted from a Muggle post office in Little Whinging, and presumably then redirected to the owl post service by the Ministry. It was from the Dursleys.  
  
He didn’t open it at first, just looked at it in surprise. The Dursleys never sent him mail except at Christmas when they usually sent a Christmas card and a poor excuse for a present, presumably in thanks for him not darkening their door over the holidays. It was getting close to Christmas, perhaps they had posted it early for some reason.  
  
He slit the envelope open and pulled out not a card but a letter written in his Aunt Petunia’s hand. As he read it his jaw slowly dropped lower and lower.  
  
_Dear Harry,_  
  
_I hope this letter finds you well._  
  
_In the spirit of the forgiveness of our Lord Jesus Christ, we would like for you to spend Christmas with us this year. After all the day of our Lord’s birth is a time for family. If you will let us know by post the date your holidays start we will pick you up from Kings Cross._  
  
_In sincerity,_  
_Petunia Dursley_  
  
He read it three times and then cast a number of charms on it trying to figure out if it was a trick of some sort.  
  
“What is it?” asked Hermione.  
  
Harry handed it to her.  
  
“It must be a trap,” she said after she read it and performed the same charms Harry had and a few more. “It’s definitely from your Aunt and she didn’t write it under duress,” she said eventually. “I didn’t think your relatives were religious.”  
  
“They weren’t,” said Harry. “Well I mean they used to go to church on Sunday every now and then. But only to show the neighbours what good law abiding people they were. I mean I guess they might have believed in God, but they certainly didn’t talk about it. And I don’t care if they have suddenly found God, I’m not going there for Christmas.”  
  
“But this is it, it’s perfect!” said Hermione.  
  
“What’s perfect?” asked Ron, whose curiosity had been distracted by eating up until now.  
  
“What’s the one place Voldemort can’t get to, safer even than the school?”  
  
Harry answered, “Well, yes, the Dursley’s, cause of the blood wards from my Mum. But I don’t know what you’re getting…. No! Absolutely not!”  
  
“It’s the only place you can take Draco that he’ll be guaranteed to be safe. And it’s the last place anyone would expect you to run away to. Especially if you keep everyone thinking you’re going to stay at school for the holidays like you always do.”  
  
“But the Dursleys? Draco Malfoy at the Dursleys? It can’t...”  
  
“Shhhh. Keep your voice down. The most important thing is that no one has even an inkling that anyone is going to the Dursleys. Hurry up and finish eating, we need to reply to this letter.”  
  
“Malfoy having Christmas with the Muggles,” Ron sounded amused.  
  
“But what if it is a trap?” whispered Harry.  
  
“It can’t be,” argued Hermione under her breath. “No-one can get to the Dursleys, that’s what makes them so safe. That’s why Dumbledore insists you keep going back there. It may seem odd, but of all people we can trust them implicitly not to have anything to do with Voldemort.”  
  
And so they sent off a reply before class telling the Durleys that Harry would be delighted to come home for Christmas and would it be all right if he brought a school friend with him to stay.  
  
Harry had written it under extreme duress, and only because he was convinced asking to bring another wizard would surely be enough to have the Dursleys change their minds about the whole thing. They could hardly bear to have one wizard in the house, surely two would meet with an instant refusal.  
  
He had also held out hope that Draco would refuse to go along with the idea. That was dashed over dinner.  
  
Draco looked thoughtful. “It might be our best plan. We can’t go anywhere in the wizarding world without putting people at risk.”  
  
“But surely you don’t want to spend Christmas with my Aunt and Uncle,” Harry tried desperately. “They’re awful. They hate anything different. I don’t think you can imagine just how bad it would be.”  
  
“Better than ending up in Voldemort’s hands,” Draco pointed out.  
  
“Well, yeah. But… Hermione’s nuts. The Dursleys will never agree to have you stay. They probably didn’t even expect me to say yes. I don’t know what’s got into them, but they hate me. They can’t possibly want me to spend Christmas with them.”  
  
But apparently they did. On Monday morning another post owl arrived with the Dursley's reply. The Dursleys would be delighted to have Draco and Harry stay because of something about entertaining angels without knowing it. Harry looked at the letter in utter bewilderment and that evening they both took themselves to Dumbledore to see what he thought of it all.  
  
Dumbledore read both letters with all solemnity, but when he looked up there was that twinkle in his eyes. “I believe the angels reference is to a passage in the Muggle Bible, Hebrews verse 13.”  
  
“You’ve read the Bible?” Harry was startled and somewhat discomposed.  
  
“I make it a point to have a familiarity with books that Muggles consider important. We all live in the same world after all. Muggle religions are quite fascinating, they still take them far more personally than wizards. There has not been a religious war among wizards in well over a thousand years, the same cannot be said of the Muggle world, alas. However, your relatives new found Christianity may be extremely useful to us. I agree with Miss Granger, this is the ideal solution to an otherwise intransigent problem. As long as you are in the care of the Dursleys the Death Eaters cannot reach you, or them, or anyone travelling with you. The only question becomes how to get Mr Malfoy through Kings Cross safely.”  
  
Resigned to Christmas at the Dursley’s, Harry began to explain the details of the plan Hermione and Draco had hashed out between them to deal with that part.  
  
–  
  
“If you’re spending the holidays with your relatives then you should at least come over to the Burrow for Christmas day,” said Ron when he heard it was all going ahead.  
  
Harry, Draco and Hermione all exchanged an uncertain glance, but it was Draco that replied.  
  
“I’m not sure going to your Mother’s is a good idea after… last time,” he said carefully.  
  
“Especially after what the papers said,” added Hermione. “Your Mum… she might believe what they printed. She did last year.”  
  
Ron made a face. “Look, she’s a bit… emotional, sometimes. But she loves Harry. I’ll talk to her.”  
  
Nothing more was mentioned about it for a few days but finally Ron came to them triumphantly with Hermione in tow, a small smile on her face. “There we are.” He dropped a letter onto the table.  
  
Reading it, Harry could tell it was the last letter in a chain and he had a feeling the first letter wouldn’t have put a very warm feeling in his stomach. But this one did, he could see how much it meant to Hermione from the way she was practically glowing.  
  
_‘Dear Ron,_  
  
_I agree completely and it would be lovely to have Harry and Hermione for Christmas dinner, and Draco Malfoy as well. I was talking about it with your father and perhaps it might be nice for Harry if we invited Sirius Black too. What do you think? I’ll leave you to ask Harry and Hermione if they want to come, but I’ll write myself and ask Sirius if you think it would be a good idea, so let us know. It will be lovely to have a nice big family Christmas._  
  
_Oh and will you tell Fred and George that just because they’re 17 doesn’t mean they don’t still have to write to us every now and then! It’s bad enough that Percy and your father aren’t speaking without those two acting like they’re too grown up to write their parents._  
  
_Love Mum’_  
  
  
**Fri 19th Dec**  
**Last Day of School**  
  
As they checked they had everything ready for tomorrow morning, Harry’s anxiety was getting the better of him.  
  
“They can’t know, they just can’t,” he said insistently.  
  
Draco stuffed a last pair of socks into his bag, grateful that it had a charm on it to fit three times the contents into the space it appeared to provide. “I’m hardly going to tell them.”  
  
"If you let slip one word, one look, that makes them even suspect that we're anything more than friends we will not even be that," Harry told him.  
  
"Have I ever been the one to give things away about us?" said Draco impatiently.  
  
"Snape."  
  
"That was different."  
  
"How?"  
  
"That was between him and me, and he kept it to himself, and he’s been nothing but helpful. So leave him out of it. You want to look to your sturdy Gryffindor house mates, they're the ones that can't keep their mouth's shut."  
  
Harry humphed. "I know, but they're not coming home with me for Christmas and Uncle Vernon is really, really, really homophobic. So just be extra careful. Please."  
  
“I will, I promise. Look let’s not focus on that, please. We get to spend Christmas together, our first Christmas, let’s try and enjoy that at least a little.” Draco tried to pull Harry into him, to soothe some of his nervousness.  
  
“I’ll just… I’m not trying to be difficult. I know it seems crazy, but the two of us staying in the same house as my Uncle and my cousin actually makes me more nervous than if we’d just gone on the run for two weeks. You don’t know what they’re like, what it was like before I came here.”  
  
“I know it was bad. I… thank you, for agreeing to let us stay there when you didn’t want to.”  
  
Harry relaxed a bit against him. “I suppose if it keeps you safe it will be worth it,” he admitted.  
  
  
**Saturday 20th December**  
  
Having made a careful point of saying a very visible and sad goodbye to everyone in the main entrance, Harry dashed away to grab his bag and throw his invisibility cloak over himself. He dove into the carriage between Draco and Ron just before it started moving. They all stared straight ahead as if completely unaware of him wedged in between them even though he had accidentally trod on Hermione’s foot on the way in.  
  
They had left Sirius with a clump of Harry’s hair, a flask of polyjuice potion provided by a grudging Professor Snape and a very grumpy Hedwig. He would eat dinner in the Great Hall tonight as Harry and pop up occasionally from time to time over the holidays, in case anyone noticed Harry’s absence and let it slip to the wrong people. There were a few suspect members of Slytherin house spending the holiday at school.  
  
Once they got going Draco sat silently on the train staring out the window. Harry could tell he was worried, they both were. Tense. And he couldn’t even risk speaking to him, no-one but those already in the know, just them and the Weasleys, could know Harry was on the train.  
  
It would be fine once they got past the station, all they had to do was get past Narcissa Malfoy and they'd be off safe and sound to Privet Drive for what would invariably be a painfully drawn out holiday season. Bad presents, if he got any presents, worse food, if they let him eat any, and Draco... a curse and a blessing he suspected. How would Draco get along with the Dursleys? He was still amazed that they'd invited him back for Christmas, never mind that they let him bring a friend. But if Uncle Vernon realised they were more than that...  
  
As they pulled into the station the tension reached snapping point. This was the weak point in the plan. Draco had to visibly get off the train then join Harry under the cloak before Mrs Malfoy could get to him. Then they had to make it to the Dursleys and away without Harry being spotted at the station by any wizards.  
  
And then they had to survive two weeks with the Dursleys.  
  
"Don't say anything when we meet them, let me do the talking," Harry whispered to him for possibly the fiftieth time.  
  
Draco, tired of reassuring him, decided that resignation to being hen-pecked was temporarily the way to go. He didn't say anything.  
  
Draco stepped off the train in front of a pre-arranged group of Gryffindors, with Harry at his heels. Before he had taken two steps the entire Weasley clan swept past him, obscuring him from sight and allowing Harry to sweep him under the cloak.  
  
They grasped each other and breathed for a moment, getting their bearings silently and making sure they were completely covered.  
  
Hermione swept visibly past a confused Narcissa Malfoy, who had clearly seen Draco step off the train but now couldn’t find him. With a worried look she headed for the Weasleys who had now met up with their parents some way off  
  
Harry and Draco followed towards the exit more cautiously, aware that a misstep now could ruin everything.  
  
It hurt Draco more than he had expected to sneak past his mother. She didn’t look angry, she looked frightened as she tried to speak to Mr and Mrs Weasley. They didn’t hear what was said as they took the chance to dive through the barrier between platform 9 ¾ and the Muggle part of the station.  
  
Harry had asked his Aunt and Uncle to meet him outside the station where they were less likely to be observed. They passed out of Kings Cross and slid behind a large rubbish bin where they stuffed the invisibility cloak into Harry’s bag and emerged with a baseball cap on Draco’s disgruntled head, to hide his distinctive hair. They had changed out of their robes on the train, Harry into his usual ill fitting hand me downs and Draco into charcoal trousers and a shirt.  
  
As they turned down York Way they were immediately Huloo'd by a thin woman standing by an unfamiliar blue Metro, definitely not the car the Dursley's had owned when Harry had last been home.  
  
"Harry! Harry dear, over here!" called Aunt Petunia.  
  
"Dear?" Harry mouthed with a look of bewilderment, as he pulled Draco precipitously across the road in a break between two fast moving taxis.  
  
When they reached the car Harry could see his Uncle behind the wheel, gripping it particularly hard and staring directly in front of him.  
  
"Blessings of the Good Lord be upon you," said Petunia.  
   
"What?" said Harry.  
  
"And this must be your friend Drake."  
  
"Actually it's Draco," said Draco, sounding both irritated and tense.  
  
"Blessings of God be upon you Drake-oh," replied Petunia.  
  
"Which one?" asked Draco looking nervously behind them.  
  
Harry opened the back door and shoved him abruptly into the small car. "We better just get going then," he told Petunia hopefully.  
  
"Don't you have your trunk? Or your owl? Do you have more luggage, Drake-oh?" she peered into the back seat.  
  
"We’re travelling light," answered Draco, clutching his bag tightly.  
  
Once they were all settled in the car and on their way Petunia craned around. "It's about an hour and a half drive, Drake-oh. Why don't you tell us how your family usually celebrates the birth of Christ the Saviour?"  
  
"Actually," said Harry. "Draco's family don't really celebrate Christmas."  
  
The temperature in the car suddenly dropped.  
  
"They're not... Jewish are they?" asked Aunt Petunia, sounding as if that might be infinitely worse than being a wizard.  
  
Harry was flummoxed as to what the safe alternative might be. "They're... er... Mormons."  
  
"Mormons?"  
  
"I think he means Muslims, Petunia," suggested Uncle Vernon.  
  
"Muslims!" declared Aunt Petunia in horror.  
  
Draco decided the time for Harry answering on his behalf was long over. "Actually Harry is mistaken, my uncle is a Mormon, but we're Church of England."  
  
"Oh, thank goodness," said Aunt Petunia. "But then why don't you celebrate the Mass of Christ?"  
  
"My Father is very pious, what Harry meant was that we don't exchange many presents or have a big dinner. We pray and attend church services."  
  
Petunia sighed rapturously. "How very admirable. This year we are gifting to the needy rather than indulging in sinful consumerism."  
  
Uncle Vernon's teeth audibly ground and the car jerked a little as his foot spasmed on the accelerator.  
  
Harry stared at Draco, who shrugged.  
  
\-------  
  
As they entered the house Uncle Vernon unexpectedly volunteered to help Harry take the bags upstairs. As soon as they were out of earshot of Petunia, who was showing Draco photos of Dudley in the sitting room, he dropped Draco’s bag.  
  
"Now listen here, boy. Don't think you're getting off easy because Petunia's found..." he grimaced, "salvation in Christ. It's your damn fault that we're not getting a full turkey dinner this year."  
  
"How's it my fault!"  
  
"You and your damned... strangeness. It’s been too much for her to cope with.”  
  
Harry knew better than to argue further with Uncle Vernon as to whether anything was or was not his fault, so he kept quiet.  
  
“We’ve put a camp bed in your room. I expect the two of you to stay in there and keep yourselves to yourselves. Aunt Marge is coming for Christmas too, be here on the 23rd, God only knows how that’s supposed to work… no bloody turkey… bloody minister and his bloody ideas….”  
  
It was kind of nice to see his Uncle had more than one direction to pour his ire and it suited Harry just fine to hide in his room with Draco.  
  
“Vernon!” came Petunia’s voice from downstairs.  
  
“So you explain to that boy,” Vernon continued. “Not one word about magic or that freaky school of yours. Just let me and Petunia do all the talking. Or else!”  
  
With that vague threat he stormed back downstairs.  
  
Harry put their bags in his room and was surprised to see that the bars were gone from the windows and there were new sheets on his bed. It looked as if the floor and windows had been recently cleaned too, and there was significantly less of Dudley’s junk on the shelves.  
  
As he came back out to rescue Draco from downstairs he noticed the bolts had been removed from the door and the catflap had been nailed over. He imagined Uncle Vernon had been made to do that very much against his will.  
  
Creeping downstairs he found Draco on the sofa in the living room looking rather bemused. Uncle Vernon was sat ramrod straight in his armchair, his face red and his fists clenched.  
  
The living room hadn’t changed much, but Harry noticed a large wooden cross hanging above the fireplace and some of the photos had been replaced by rather twee looking bible quotations.  
  
“That I may dwell in the House of the Lord all the Days of my Life,” read one framed image with a picture of a family standing outside a cottage.  
  
Harry edged over to Draco and whispered, “We should probably go up...”  
  
Before he could finish Aunt Petunia bustled into the room with a tray of teacups which she placed on the table.  
  
Uncle Vernon fumed silently as she handed him a cup.  
  
Draco said “Thank you,” very politely when presented with his tea.  
  
Harry stared in almost panic at the cup being handed to him. This couldn’t be for him. Aunt Petunia had never made him a cup of tea in his entire life. He suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe. If he took the tea Uncle Vernon would be angry, he glanced at the man. He wasn’t looking at Harry, he was glaring into his tea. Harry looked back at Aunt Petunia and a strange moment of communication occurred as they looked at each other.  
  
Then she put the cup down on the table near Harry and sat down on the other arm chair.  
  
“Dudley will be home from school tonight,” said Aunt Petunia nervously. “Piers’ parents are driving them back.”  
  
“Oh,” said Harry. “… good.”  
  
Everyone drank tea silently except for Harry, who still hadn’t picked his up.  
  
Finally he did, with a deep breath. “Well,” he said. “It was a long trip, we should go and… um... freshen up. So we’ll just… take these upstairs.”  
  
Aunt Petunia seemed relieved. “Yes, of course,” she said. “I’ll call you down when dinner’s ready then.”  
  
Avoiding the temptation to grab Draco by the hand, Harry headed for the door and held it for Draco to join him.  
  
When they got upstairs Harry collapsed on the bed and covered his face with his hands. “What the absolute fuck is going on?” he asked the world at large.  
  
Draco shut the door and looked around the room with dislike. “This is your room?”  
  
“Yeah, told you not to expect much.”  
  
Draco fished in his bag, pulled out his wand and raised it.  
  
“Stop!”  
  
“What?”  
  
“You can get away with magic in houses with adult wizards but not here where it’s all Muggles. The trace will know you’re doing magic outside of school.”  
  
“Damn,” said Draco. “I forgot. I’m so used to doing magic at home.” He looked around. “You don’t think I could get away with one teeny little transfiguration?”  
  
“Definitely not.”  
  
Draco put his wand away again with a scowl and sat next to Harry on the bed. “This is going to be awful,” he said.  
  
“I did tell you that.”  
  
“No silencing charms?”  
  
“Absolutely not.”  
  
“Then I suppose you’re just going to have to learn to be quieter,” said Draco with a smirk, and pounced on him.  
  
Harry protested quietly at first as Draco undid his trousers, worried about getting caught by his relatives, but after a certain point he found his body over ruling his worries as Draco’s head began bobbing rhythmically between his legs.  
  
Harry stuffed a hand into his mouth as Draco’s tongue pressed into the slit of his cock and his fingers slid from Harry’s balls to explore further back.  
  
Then he raised his head and swore quietly, “Fuck, no lubrication spells either.”  
  
Harry found his voice again and said squeakily. “No, and no locking charms.”  
  
Draco licked again at the head of Harry’s cock, thoughtfully. Then still holding firmly onto Harry’s erection with his left hand he reached over and hauled his bag into his lap and began to pull things out. “This will do it,” he said and waved a jar of something at Harry. He let go to open the jar and Harry pulled away, dragging the blanket over his lap. “Oh come on, your relatives are terrified of us, even your aunt. I’m sure they won’t come in without knocking.”  
  
Harry shook his head firmly.  
  
Draco stood up and looked around. “Here.” He picked up a quidditch magazine from the desk and folding it over he jammed it firmly under the edge of the door then stalked over to the bed. “I’m not spending two weeks in this Muggle hellhole without something to take my mind of things.” He grabbed the blanket and pulled it aside to get his mouth back between Harry’s legs.  
  
Harry groaned and pulled the blanket back, covering Draco and his crotch with it. Draco tugged his legs, pulling him onto his back under the material and before long he felt Draco’s now slick fingers slide back between his arse cheeks. Before he knew it he was opening his legs wider and lifting his knees to give Draco better access as fingers opened him up ready for Draco’s cock to slide inside him. And even though he watched the door in terror, straining to listen for footsteps on the stairs, somehow the forbidden nature of doing this here, of muffling any sound with his hand, of risking disaster, made him even harder, even more desperate for the feel of Draco pushing inside him and filling him up, bending his legs back more to take what he wanted.  
  
Draco’s head slid above the blankets, as he lined his cock up ready to push in, and their eyes met. Draco smiled and pulling Harry’s hand away he pressed his own hand over his mouth instead and then pushed forwards with his cock. “No noise, Harry,” he whispered as he breached him. “Let me fuck you nice and slow, going to come inside you.” All the time he pushed deeper and deeper until he could press no further. “And you’re going to hold on for me, you’re not going to come.” He pulled out a little faster and thrust back in a little more forcefully. “You’re going to let me fuck you, let me use you, lie back and take it for me.”  
  
Harry was feeling light-headed, he nodded his assent.  
  
Draco smiled and continued his slow, deep thrusts, their eyes glued to each other. As Draco sped up the bed began to creak slightly. “Can’t have that,” he whispered. “Hold on.” Harry’s arms went around his shoulders, and in one swift move he picked Harry up, his legs automatically holding on around Draco’s waist, and deposited him on the floor, sliding back inside him as if nothing had happened. He continued to pick up the pace, covering Harry’s mouth again.  
  
Harry concentrated on breathing, on not letting his throat tighten up the way the rest of his body was as the pleasure built inside him. No noise, he thought. No noise. The need to control himself was arousing, his body felt hyper sensitive. Under his hips and shoulders the cheap carpet scratched him as Draco began to fuck him harder and faster. He could hear the noise of Draco’s skin slapping lightly against his, not loud enough to carry past the door, could hear the soft ragged breathing sounds they were both making. Outside a car went past. He was so close.  
  
“Not yet, Harry. Not yet,” Draco whispered. “Hold on to it.”  
  
Harry held his breath as Draco pounded into him now, he could see the other boy getting closer and closer. He wanted to see his face, to watch his face as he came inside Harry.  
  
“Oh, Harry, you feel so good,” Draco whispered. “You’re so good.”  
  
And then with a high catch of breath Draco was coming, a little hiccup of sound as his body arched over Harry, his hand tightening over Harry’s mouth, the feel of fluid heat inside him and the deep shallow needy thrusts. Then Draco’s heavy body relaxing onto him, panting softly with exertion, his cock still inside Harry but slipping out as Harry’s legs came down to wrap around Draco’s thighs. Harry’s cock hard and urgent still, pressed between their bellies.  
  
“Mmmm,” said Draco. “Needed that.”  
  
Despite still being hard, Draco’s relaxation was contagious and took away even more of Harry’s edgy nerves. His cock throbbed pleasantly, willing to wait a little longer.  
  
After a few long minutes Draco stirred and brought himself up on elbows and knees to study Harry and his cock. He leaned forward and kissed him lazily, stroking their tongues together. Then he took himself back down between Harry’s legs.  
  
“Remember,” he said with a smile. “Not a sound.”  
  
Then he sucked Harry’s cock back into his mouth and began working at it in earnest.  
  
Harry gasped and jammed his hand back over his mouth, making small animal sounds as he raced from the pleasant plateau right over the edge at breakneck speed. He nearly suffocated himself trying not to cry out as his body spilled what felt like it’s entire contents down Draco’s throat.  
  
And not two minutes later, as they still lay like that on the floor, Aunt Petunia’s voice came from below. “Dinner’s ready.”


	21. Christmas Day

**Mon 22nd Dec**  
  
In the end Harry needn’t have worried about his aunt and uncle, who left them well alone, but he should have worried about Dudley. Unfortunately the moment for worrying was really past when Dudley was already standing in his doorway staring at Harry with wide eyes as he pulled his mouth away from Draco’s cock and stared back in horror at his cousin.  
  
Dudley just gaped for a moment as Draco hurriedly stuffed his prick back into his trousers and fastened them. Then he started to take a breath and Harry dived at him, hauling him forward into the room and shutting the door. “Don’t,” he hissed. “Please.”  
  
Draco stood up uncertainly.  
  
“You’re poofters,” gasped Dudley. “I knew it! Dad’s gonna...”  
  
“You can’t tell him,” pleaded Harry. “Please, Dudley. I’ll do anything.”  
  
Draco frowned at him, but said nothing.  
  
“No way,” Dudley spat. “I don’t want you here and neither does Dad and I bet if I tell them they’ll send you both back to that stupid school of yours.”  
  
“What about money,” said Draco suddenly.  
  
“What?” said Dudley.  
  
“What?” said Harry.  
  
“Money,” said Draco. “Quite simple. I’ll pay you to keep your mouth shut.”  
  
“How much?” said Dudley with a greedy look.  
  
Draco looked thoughtful. “50 galleons.”  
  
“What the fuck is a galleon?” said Dudley. “You’re full of shit, you don’t have any money.”  
  
Draco drew himself up haughtily. “The Malfoy’s are one of the richest wizarding families in Britain,” he said. “We own more land than you will ever even see.”  
  
Dudley went back to looking greedy. “Then I want…. £500!” he declared.  
  
Harry almost laughed, at about £10 to the galleon Dudley had just asked for exactly what Malfoy had offered him in the first place, and undoubtedly far less than he would have been willing to agree to.  
  
“Fine,” said Draco, trying to look as if he was pained to offer so much. “I’ll need to get some of your muggle money before I can give it to you though.”  
  
Dudley looked suspicious. “I want it by Christmas,” he said. “Or I’m telling.”  
  
“We’re going away for Christmas dinner, I can give it to you when we come back,” Draco bargained.  
  
“You’d better,” Dudley snarled. “And you’d better hope I don’t change my mind before then and tell anyway!” And with that he barged back out of the room, slamming the door behind him.  
  
Harry fell back onto the bed, his face white. “Fuck.”  
  
“Yes… I don’t have the money,” said Draco.  
  
“What?”  
  
“I mean I do, but I’m not sure I can get it from my vault without going to Gringotts and that’s hardly an option.”  
  
“Bugger,” swore Harry. “I knew we shouldn’t have...”  
  
“Stop right there,” said Draco. “It’s done now so there’s no point kicking ourselves over getting caught.”  
  
“He really will kick us out, you know,” said Harry. “Aunt Petunia or not he won’t have us under his roof if he knows we’re… together. I know him. He’ll lose the rag completely. And Dudley… we can’t trust him.”  
  
“I know, but I didn’t know what else to do. We can’t hex him or obliviate him. Money’s all we’ve got. We’ll just have to figure out how to get the money and hope it’s enough.” He sat on the bed next to Harry. “I’m sorry.” He laced their fingers together.  
  
“Yeah, me too. Sorry my relatives are so vile.”  
  
“Well, you’re hardly the only one with that problem,” Draco said wryly. “I am related to Bellatrix Lestrange you know.”  
  
“Really?”  
  
“She’s my aunt, my mother’s sister.”  
  
“There’s just no accounting for aunts,” Harry said glumly.  
  
–  
  
The only thing that had lifted Harry’s heart, on knowing that he was going to spend the holidays with the Dursleys, was the promise of Christmas Day at the Weasley's. With Mrs Weasley’s invitation and Sirius and Lupin on side he had made it a demand. Christmas dinner at the Weasley's or he wasn’t going. And so it had been arranged, a portkey made in advance with a timer set to 1pm on the 25th December that would carry he and Draco to the Burrow for the rest of the day and back to the Dursley's at 8pm.  
  
And while the Dursleys had been more confusing than awful, he was still deeply relieved that they would have a real Christmas. And the chance to pick up the money they needed to pay off Dudley. Even if Draco claimed he would rather pray with Aunt Petunia than eat at a table filled entirely with Weasleys.  
  
Despite his complaints he had dressed nicely and demanded Harry did too. “You may insist on looking like some sort of homeless person while we’re with your relatives...”  
  
“I don’t want to look like that,” Harry protested. “They expect me to look like that!”  
  
“I… I’m not getting into that right now. This is about today and it’s our first Christmas and we are going out for dinner and you are going to look halfway respectable.” Draco insisted, tugging one of his own jumpers over Harry’s head.  
  
“I don’t need a jumper,” Harry protested.  
  
“Do as you’re told.” Draco gazed in horror at what putting the jumper on had done to Harry’s hair. He tried to smooth it back in vain.  
  
“You’re being weird,” Harry told him, grabbing at his hands.  
  
“What time is it?”  
  
“Dunno, nearly time probably.”  
  
Draco dived out of the room to look at the clock in the living room, his watch had got broken when he'd been attacked back in October. Harry heard him pound down the stairs. While he was gone Harry wandered into the bathroom and wet his hair to make it calm down a bit again. Peering in the mirror he did look nice in Draco’s clothes, and he quite liked wearing them if truth be told. Not that he’d admit it to Draco. He tugged his shirt sleeves down where they’d got pulled up by putting the jumper on. He wondered what Draco would think when he exchanged this jumper for whatever Molly had knitted him this year. He smiled and headed back to his room.  
  
He heard Malfoy pounding back up the stairs, for someone generally graceful he didn’t half sound like a herd of elephants when he was excited or anxious.  
  
Draco burst into the room. “It’s ten to one!” he exclaimed. “Are you ready? Do we have everything? Where’s the portkey?”  
  
Harry lifted up the woolly hat that Dumbledore had enchanted for them. “It’s right here and all our stuff is in your bag because you packed it last night and you’ve checked it about twenty times so it seems just about impossible that we don’t have everything.”  
  
Draco huffed at Harry and sat down. Harry sat beside him and tangled their hands and the hat together so that when the portkey activated they were ready.  
  
“You don’t need to be so nervous,” he said. “There’ll be so many Weasleys there we’ll just be part of the crowd.”  
  
“That is not even slightly reassuring,” Draco told him.  
  
“I promise to protect you from them, and I’m pretty sure neither red hair nor freckles are contagious.”  
  
“At least we’ll finally be able to do magic again.”  
  
“Actually, Mrs Weasley is pretty strict about underage magic in the house.”  
  
“Wha...” Draco’s response was lost in the tug of the portkey.  
  
–  
  
They did indeed arrive into a maelstrom of red hair and laughter. Harry was hugged by several unidentifiable red haired people before he could get his bearings through the shouts of “Merry Christmas!” He finally freed himself from the throng to look around.  
  
Draco was already walking over to talk to Bill Weasley, who was handing him a bag of money that he’d offered to pick up on Draco’s behalf. With his contacts at Gringotts and a letter from Draco they could at least be sure the money had been retrieved unobtrusively. Although Harry narrowed his eyes when Draco’s hand lingered on Bill’s arm a moment longer than necessary.  
  
Hermione was distracting him however. “...so glad you’re here. Has it been awful?”  
  
“Um,” Harry looked away from Draco. “Not too bad I suppose. Aunt Petunia seems to have Uncle Vernon on a short leash, it’s quite funny sometimes. Dudley’s still an arse though.”  
  
Draco joined them then. “Still can’t get over this paper money stuff,” he said absently to Harry. “Can’t quite believe it’s actually worth anything.”  
  
Harry glanced at the crisp £50 notes Draco was leafing through.  
  
“What’s that for?” asked Hermione.  
  
“Hush money,” said Harry grumpily. “Like I said, Dudley is still an issue. He, ah, may have realised Draco and I aren’t just friends.”  
  
“Oh, that’s unfortunate.”  
  
“And then some,” agreed Harry.  
  
And then Mrs Weasley was there and he felt himself stiffen.  
  
“Harry, love, I'm so glad you and Draco were able to make it for Christmas dinner.”  
  
Draco was stiff beside him as well, folding the paper money and tucking it away in his trousers. “Thank you very much for inviting us, Mrs Weasley,” he said formally. “I believe I owe you an apology for my behaviour last time I was here.”  
  
Mrs Weasley flushed a bit red. “Oh, well... I'm sure we both said things we didn't exactly mean.”  
  
“Nevertheless I apologise for my tone,” said Draco.  
  
“Well...” said Mrs Weasley. “And I'm sorry things got so heated. You were a guest and I shouldn't have let my temper get the better of me.”  
  
Things were awkward for a moment before Ron appeared at their side looking excited. “Come on over to the tree, you still have presents to open!”  
  
Harry smiled and let himself be hustled over. It had been a quieter Christmas morning than in a long time as they had only exchanged their own small gifts to each other. They had agreed in advance not to go over the top, mostly at Harry’s insistence because he had been anxious about what to get Draco. They had agreed that any other presents should be brought to the Weasley’s by Professor Lupin and Sirius rather than risk drawing any attention to them being at Privet Drive.  
  
Speaking of which, there were Sirius and Lupin waiting by the tree. Harry hugged Sirius tightly, this would be the first chance he’d had to spend Christmas with his godfather.  
  
“Merry Christmas, Harry,” said Professor Lupin.  
  
Everyone settled down and as Ron and the twins set about piling presents in front of Harry, Draco began pulling out the presents they had brought from his bag to pass around. They had agreed to give joint presents to everyone but Ron and Hermione and Sirius, whom Harry had wanted to give individual gifts to.  
  
Once they were done Harry had quite a pile to get through and Draco had six gifts of his own to open and looked rather surprised about it.  
  
They set about the opening with the gleeful abandon of boys who were not quite men yet. Even after four years of actually receiving presents Harry hadn’t got used to it yet.  
  
As Harry opened his Weasley jumper, Draco interrupted things. “This one doesn’t have a note on it, who’s it from?” he asked Sirius.  
  
“I don’t know, let me see.” Sirius reached for the small neatly wrapped box, covered in expensive looking silver and blue paper. “They were all just sitting in your room already this morning, I just tipped them into my bag.” He examined the box and passed it to Lupin, who took out his wand and cast a few spells.  
  
“It doesn’t seem to be dangerous,” said Lupin. “Is there anyone you were expecting a gift from who hasn’t given you one?”  
  
Draco looked at his half opened pile. There was a book on Occlumency from Professor Snape, a box of sweets from Dumbledore, another book from Hermione and Ron, this one about an esoteric branch of runelore and clearly chosen by Hermione. Then there were two unopened gifts, one large squashy one marked as from Molly and Arthur and the other a small box from Sirius. “My mother,” he said. “But she doesn’t know where I am... but maybe she sent a gift anyway hoping it would get to me eventually. The paper is the sort of thing she would use.”  
  
“Maybe you shouldn’t open it though,” said Hermione. “Just in case.”  
  
“We can open it carefully, at a distance,” said Lupin. “If that’s all right, Draco?”  
  
Draco nodded and Lupin stood up and placed the package some distance away and as Sirius cast a shield charm between the rest of them and the small box, Lupin cast a spell to unwrap the gift magically. The paper folded away to reveal a box whose lid lifted up by itself to reveal an expensive looking silver cloak clasp.  
  
“That looks like the Black coat of arms,” said Sirius.  
  
“It is,” said Draco. “It must be from my mother. Father has disowned me, the clasp is to remind me that the Malfoy name isn’t all that I have claim to, that we are Blacks as well.” He sounded slightly emotional, although he was trying to cover it.  
  
He stepped forward, but Sirius raised a hand to stop him. “Not yet.” He walked over himself and lifted the small clasp into his hand cautiously. Nothing happened. He looked it over and cast his own spells on it. “There’s magic on it, but it doesn’t seem to be anything dangerous. Probably a non-tarnishing charm.” He held out the clasp and Draco reached out to take it.  
  
The moment his hand touched the gift there was a billowing movement of air, as if a very tiny explosion had occurred at the point of contact. Draco jumped back, looking at his fingers. Sirius dropped the clasp.  
  
Everyone froze.  
  
“I’m all right,” said Draco. “It didn’t do any...”  
  
There was a sharp crack outside the window. And then another and another.  
  
Arthur was first to the window to look, but before he could even report what he could see the front door blew open and chaos descended.  
  
Harry dived for Draco, and then realised he didn’t have his wand. In fact he hadn’t even brought his wand, he had left it at the Dursley's still tucked away in his bag. He whirled around taking in the room in a panic. There were Death Eaters pushing through the door and already starting to fire spells, the window exploded as well, one of the twins was trying to floo call someone, or that was what it looked like. Someone elbowed Harry in the head and he stumbled. Draco had his wand out and was casting spells while looking absolutely terrified. Harry grabbed for his free hand, not wanting to lose sight of him.  
  
“I didn’t bring my wand,” he gasped.  
  
“Stay behind me then,” Draco snapped quickly between a Stupefy and a Protego.  
  
Harry stepped back a little, cursing himself for a lazy, stupid, mugglebrained, fool to leave his wand behind even if he thought he wouldn't need it. He should have it with him at all times, even at Privet Drive. He was never ever going to… the world went suddenly black.  
  
–  
  
It was a crazy chaotic battle in the confined space of the Weasley front room and kitchen and no one had any idea how much time had actually passed before it was suddenly over.  
  
Aurors had finally started popping into appearance in the front yard, pinning the remaining combatants between themselves and those fighting in the house. Death Eaters started scattering immediately.  
  
As the sounds of the fight itself died down, other sounds became clearer over the top.  
  
Draco was shouting semi-hysterically, “Harry, where’s Harry!”  
  
But over the top of even that was a keening awful sound of someone in pain.  
  
Then shouts for someone to call St Mungo's in, but the medics were waiting for the okay from the Aurors who were still restraining the last of the captured Death Eaters outside.  
  
Charlie Weasley stumbled out of the house, his left arm covered in blood, “Is there a Healer out here? Please, anyone?”  
  
“I can help,” shouted one of the Aurors running over, “Triage only I’m afraid, is it yourself or...”  
  
“In here,” Charlie stated grimly grabbing the man by the arm and hauling him through the door.  
  
Inside the house was wrecked and full of bodies. At least five Death Eaters were scattered around in varying states, all out for the count in one way or the other.  Fred and George were hauling them bodily into a pile near the door, making no effort to avoid damaging them even further, their faces were pale and serious. Hermione was at the fireplace floo calling someone with a wild eyed Draco next to her being half propped up by Ron.  
  
By the window was Molly Weasley with her eldest son Bill, the keening was coming from Molly. Between them Arthur Weasley was slumped against the wall under the window with Bill muttering what spells he knew that might help.  
  
The triage Auror ran forward to help with a set face, he could already see that the likelihood of saving him was minimal. If there had been more serious injuries to attend to he would have tagged this one red and moved on. But it seemed as if the rest of the occupants of the room had miraculously escaped with only minor damage.  
  
“All we can do is prep him for the shock of the portkey and then this will send him directly to the trauma unit at St Mungo’s,” the Auror explained. “I’ll go with him, I’m afraid you can’t come, the portkey is set to only transport two.”  
  
It didn’t seem like Molly could really hear him. She continued to cry, holding Arthur’s arm so tightly Bill had to pry her off to let the Auror take Arthur away. As soon as he was gone Molly collapsed into Bill’s arms.  
  
Hermione pulled back from the floo and cleared the fireplace saying, “Professor Dumbledore’s coming through.”  
  
Before she had even finished speaking, the Headmaster was stepping out of the fire and into the room. His eyes keen, he raked over the scene taking in every detail. “Who saw Harry last,” was all he said.  
  
“He was holding my hand,” said Draco, his voice rough and his face bruised. “He didn't have his wand. And then his hand pulled out of mine and when I turned around he was gone.”  
  
“Did anyone else see him?”  
  
Around the room there were only frightened, tired faces, and the sound of Molly crying softly.  
  
Eventually Professor Lupin said, “One of them must have got behind us. We were all facing away, Draco and Harry were at the back because we knew they were the real target.”  
  
“No,” said Draco. “Harry was the real target, they never even tried to take me as well. We've been so busy worrying about my mother and who's trying to off me at school we've forgotten that I'm just an irritation. It's Harry he's wanted all along.”  
  
No one had anything to say to that.  
  
\--  
  
Harry was roused from unconsciousness with the sharpness of what felt to be a Rennervate. The last thing he remembered was Death Eaters flooding into the Burrow. His head hurt. He opened his eyes to little input, the room he was in was shadowed and cool. His arms were bound behind him. The shadows moved and Harry had a sinking feeling of deja vu so powerful that he actually sighed, “You again.”  
  
“Yes,” replied Lord Voldemort.  
  
At least he was the only one here, he could only hope the others were all right. “Well, get on with it then will you,” he felt angry and stupid. It was his own fault he was here. “What's the plan this time, torture or death, or maybe a bit of both?”  
  
Voldemort smiled in an unsettling way. “You misunderstand, Harry. I didn’t bring you here to kill you.”  
  
“I already told you, or told your little messenger any way. I’m not interested in joining you.”  
  
“It doesn’t matter if you are interested. We are already joined. You can’t help it, in every way possible we are joined.”  
  
Harry nearly rolled his eyes. “You are a raving maniac, you know that right?”  
  
“This body, Harry. My soul comes from my mother, and thus from Slytherin himself, the bones are my father's, the flesh that of Peter Pettigrew. But my blood, my blood is the same blood that flows through your veins. We are brothers now, Harry. Family.”  
  
Harry stared at him, shocked.  
  
“Yes, you realise it now. I didn’t at first, I sought to kill you still. But you escaped, your wand the brother to my own, and you and I… as if it were always meant to be.”  
  
Harry found his voice. “Just because you stole my blood for that spell doesn’t mean...”  
  
“Oh but it does,”Voldemort interrupted him. “I had to explore my new body, find out how strong it was. I was angry at first, but then I realised. The prophecy….” Voldemort trailed off, gazing at Harry in a disturbingly familiar way.  
  
“What prophecy?” Harry demanded.  
  
“The prophecy, our prophecy.” Voldemort repeated insistently.  
  
“What are you talking about?” Harry spat in exasperation.  
  
“He didn’t tell you,” Voldemort sounded surprised. “He didn’t even tell you why...”  
  
“Will you just explain what the fuck you are talking about!” shouted Harry, seriously thrown by the whole conversation.  
  
“The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord… and you did. The prophecy that told me you were dangerous, the prophecy that sent me to kill you. There was more to it that I never heard, I had hoped you would know.”  
  
“I never even heard of this prophecy,” Harry stammered. “I don’t understand.”  
  
“That does not matter,” said Voldemort dismissively. “The prophecy is in the Ministry. I cannot retrieve it, but you can. We must know what it says, you and I.”  
  
“The prophecy is about us?”  
  
“It was foretold that you would destroy me Harry, told to your Professor Dumbledore just before your birth. I thought I could prevent it, but instead I caused it to happen. I blamed you… but it has given me something I never thought was possible. Family. We must find out the full prophecy, I must know for certain what this all means.”  
  
Harry’s head was buzzing. Professor Dumbledore knew about this and had never told him.  
  
“Will you fetch it for me?” Voldemort's voice was almost honeyed.  
  
“What?”  
  
“The record of the prophecy is held in the Department of Mysteries. Only you or I can reach it and I am not yet prepared to enter the Ministry, it is too soon. But I can help you to get in. This is important, Harry, this is our future, held in someone else's vaults. Kept secret from us.”  
  
“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” Harry demanded.  
  
“I can show you, if you like?”  
  
And so Harry found himself once more in front of a Pensieve, much like the one that belonged to Professor Dumbledore and into which he had strayed last year.  
  
And once more he entered someone else’s memory, but this time with permission, although actually this would be the second time he had willingly stepped into Tom Riddle's past.  
  
And then he was stood in the dark seeing another Voldemort and… Snape! A much younger Severus Snape approaching in a breathless hurry.  
  
Harry watched the scene play out with a slowly growing fury. Only half aware of the real Voldemort stood beside him watching too. Snape had betrayed information to Voldemort that had directly led to his parents death. Snape had sent Voldemort after him. Snape had started it all!  
  
“I’ve seen enough,” Harry growled and felt Voldemort clutch his arm and pull them both back out of the memory. He looked up at the man who had murdered his parents. “It was me you wanted, all along. They never needed to die.”  
  
Voldemort was matter of fact. “I had intended to spare your mother, but she would not stand aside.”  
  
“If you think that makes it better...”  
  
“I am not apologising. Do not mistake me, we may be brothers, but we are not equals.” Harry found himself bound again at a gesture. “You clearly have some good blood in you, you speak Parseltongue after all, there must be some Slytherin blood in you. But your mother was a mudblood and her death weighs not upon me. She was weak. And your father was powerful, but foolish. But you… you could be strong. I have heard of your relationship with the Malfoy heir. You may not understand it, but you are drawn to his purity, the power in his pure blood. We are more alike than either of us understand. You and I are tied together somehow and I will not rest until I understand how.”  
  
“I am nothing like you,” Harry spat.  
  
“But you must want to know, you must want to hear the full prophecy that started us along this path?”  
  
Harry said nothing. His sudden desire to rip Snape’s guts out in no way tempered his hatred for the man before him. And his reference to Draco had only reminded him of that anew. This creature had laid hands on Draco, hurt him, given him nightmares and scars. He would die before he helped him hear this prophecy, but he didn’t trust his voice right now. So he just glared.  
  
Voldemort gestured to the door and it swung open. “We will talk again tomorrow. Once you have had time to think about things.”  
  
–  
  
Charlie had gone with the Aurors to the Ministry to make an official statement and to find Percy. Then everyone had finally been relocated to either the school, or in Bill and Molly's case to St Mungo's to await news on Arthur. The Burrow was not currently considered safe or particularly habitable. Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Fred and George were all back in Gryffindor Tower together. Molly had wanted them in the safest place possible, not waiting at the hospital. She had promised Bill would floo them as soon as there was any news.  
  
Professor McGonagall had gone briefly to the Dursley's to retrieve Harry's wand and explain that the boys would not be returning after all, and now sat waiting with Draco, Sirius and Remus in the Headmaster's office.  
  
It was well after 10pm when Dumbledore and Snape finally arrived back at the school, escorting an angry and frightened Narcissa Malfoy, who nevertheless stepped proudly through the door with them.  
  
Narcissa stopped as soon as she saw Draco, who stood up like a shot but didn't come forward. “Draco! Where have you...”  
  
“Where is he?” he interrupted her sharply, his voice cracking.  
  
“Who?”  
  
Then Draco did storm forward. “Harry! Where did they take him!”  
  
Narcissa stepped back a little. “I don't know what you're...”  
  
“You sent that gift, that trap! Where did they take him!” Draco all but shouted in her face, his fury causing the nearby shelves to shiver with accidental magic.  
  
Professor McGonagall hovered behind him, ready to stop him if he did more than shout. Sirius and Remus remained well back.  
  
But Snape stepped in front of Narcissa. “That's enough, Draco,” he said quietly. “We will accomplish little this way.”  
  
Draco took a step back, just enough to show he was listening. But his gaze was past Snape at his mother, and it was furious.  
  
Dumbledore escorted Narcissa around them to sit at his desk and the rest followed, Snape ensuring that Draco sat far away from Narcissa.  
  
“What is this all about,” she asked softly, her voice sounding only a little shaken. “You told me you had found Draco, but...”  
  
“I was never lost,” Draco spat. “I was hiding from you, and with good reason as it turns out!”  
  
“Enough, Draco,” said Snape more firmly. “Accusations achieve nothing, we require facts.” He looked to Dumbledore.  
  
“Draco received a gift, it arrived at the school either last night or this morning,” Dumbledore explained. “He assumed that it had come from you.” Dumbledore pulled the clasp from a pocket and laid it on the desk.  
  
“I...” Narcissa began, but Dumbledore held up his hand to allow him to continue.  
  
“When Draco touched the clasp it sent some sort of signal informing Voldemort where he was and possibly even breaking any wards protecting him. Whatever spell was cast on it was designed to destroy all traces of itself after activation. Draco was with Harry Potter at the time, the Death Eaters attacked the home they were in and took Harry with them before they were defeated by the arrival of a team of Aurors. Several of the Death Eaters were captured, but so far none have revealed any useful information.” Dumbledore stopped talking and waited silently.  
  
Narcissa picked up the clasp carefully and looked at it. “I sent no gift,” she said cautiously. “I have been searching for Draco ever since he disappeared from Platform 9 and ¾.” She glanced quickly at him, as if needing to reassure herself again that he was really there. “For all I knew the Death Eaters had taken him,” her voice broke a little.  
  
“We will need more than your reassurances before we can proceed,” Snape said. “I hope now you can see that in seeking to keep Draco from you we had good reason to be concerned. If the boys had stayed at the school the wards may have been strong enough to prevent this.”  
  
“What do you need from me?” she asked.  
  
“Proof that you were not involved, and if you can give that then help in finding your husband and the location of the Dark Lord.”  
  
Narcissa looked at the floor. “And even if I were innocent, do you think I would betray my own husband for a stranger?”  
  
“He's already betrayed us! And Harry isn't a stranger!” Draco snapped. “I'm your son and he's tried to have me killed! I could have been killed again when the Death Eaters attacked today! If you didn't do this then why are you protecting him?”  
  
Narcissa looked torn. “I won’t betray your father. You don't understand that he would never... but... there may be a way that I can find out where Harry is. But I won’t be an accessory to handing my own husband to the authorities.”  
  
“Even if he is trying to murder your only son?” Draco asked bitterly.  
  
Narcissa’s face darkened. “Do not assume to understand everything, Draco. Nothing is as simple as it seems. Your father tried to save you...”  
  
“He was going to kill Harry!”  
  
“Enough!” his Mother snapped, a rare loss of control. “Do you want  me to do this or not?”  
  
Draco restrained himself. “Yes, yes… please.”  
  
“Then you will remain silent and you will let me try and you will not ask for more than I can give.”  
  
Draco nodded and subsided, his pulse thumping in his throat. He had to find Harry, he couldn’t let things end like this.  
  
Narcissa took a small purse out of her pocket and took from it the wedding ring that she had not been wearing on her finger. She put it back on and pressed her wand to the metal band. “Matrimonium locus,” she said quietly.  
  
It appeared that nothing had happened, but then Draco was not familiar with the spell.  
  
“Well?” asked Snape.  
  
“It is still functioning,” Narcissa replied. “But I told you I will not betray Lucius. I will go alone.”  
  
“What?” Sirius said incredulously.  
  
“Mother!”  
  
Dumbledore silenced them again. “I will require something of you to ensure your return,” he said.  
  
“I will take veritaserum if you require it,” she answered tightly. “Although I may point out that as you already have my son, you should hardly need more.”  
  
“You surely cannot believe I would threaten a child to ensure his parents behaviour?” said Dumbledore.  
  
“I believe that there are those here who might,” she replied stiffly.  
  
Snape glanced at Sirius before he could stop himself, only to find Sirius glancing right back at him. They scowled at each other.  
  
“I want to go,” said Draco.  
  
“Don't be ridiculous,” Snape rebuked him. “We are not handing them another victim.”  
  
“I saved him last time!”  
  
“Because you caught them by surprise, you will not do so again.”  
  
“You will not go, Draco. I will not take you,” his mother said firmly.  
  
Draco stood up and paced over to the window, unable to sit still any longer. “Then sort this out quickly,” he demanded. “There isn't time!”  
  
“I will go alone, I will tell Lucius I wanted to see him, that I missed him, that it was Christmas and I was alone, that I was worried about Draco.”  
  
“If you were so worried about me why didn't you do the spell sooner and find out if they had me!” Draco said unkindly.  
  
Narcissa didn't reply, although if she had it would have been to say that she had been too afraid to know if the Dark Lord had found him, too afraid to find out that he was dead. “I will find out what I can and I will return here. Will you let me go?”  
  
Dumbledore looked at her for a long silent moment and then finally nodded his head. “Yes, and thank you.”  
  
Sirius and Snape both found themselves jumping to disagree, and then arguing over each other to avoid being on the same side. But even as they did Narcissa was standing up and taking her leave.  
  
She paused as she passed near Draco but did not approach him. “I am sorry, Draco,” she said. “I did not realise... if I can find him for you then I will.”  
  
She was almost gone before he thought to say, “Be careful.”  
  
She nodded in response and departed down the stairs.


	22. The Dept of Mysteries

**Thurs 25th Dec cont.**

  
Once Narcissa had gone, Dumbledore turned back to them. “I received an owl yesterday with news that the Ministry has so far managed to keep quiet. Fortunately our operatives in the Auror division caught wind of it. There has been a significantly large break out from Azkaban.”  
  
Draco brought his attention back to the headmaster.  
  
“I'm afraid that, as we have been concerned might happen, the Dementors simply allowed a number of prisoners to leave, all of them known or suspected Death Eaters.”  
  
“Which prisoners,” said Sirius, his breathing speeding up.  
  
“I'm sorry Sirius, but among other more dangerous figures, Peter Pettigrew was indeed one of those who escaped. In fact it may be that his presence facilitated the breakout.”  
  
Sirius growled in anger.  
  
“The Ministry surely won't be able to cover that up forever!” remarked Professor McGonagall.  
  
“No,” agreed Dumbledore. “I suspect they are simply trying to polish their story to place the blame where they wish it, before releasing the news. But most importantly, this marks a change in strategy. We can only presume that as of now things may become more openly aggressive.”  
  
“They already have,” said Remus. “I'm going to go and check on the children, they should have an adult with them. I might stay in Gryffindor Tower tonight, if the call comes in I can escort them to St Mungo's.”  
  
“Do you want me to come?” Sirius asked.  
  
“I would prefer you stay with Draco,” Dumbledore said.  
  
Draco thought about protesting, but actually he really didn't want to be alone, and oddly he found he rather wanted to see Hermione and Ron. “Do you think...” he stopped to clear his throat and finished in a strained tone. “Maybe I could stay in Gryffindor Tower as well?”  
  
Snape looked horrified, but Dumbledore nodded. “As long as Sirius and Professor Lupin are there, that will be fine,” he said kindly. “Should the call come in for the Weasleys to go to St Mungo's please let Minerva and myself know before anyone leaves. And I expect Sirius to stay in the school with Draco either way.”  
  
“Of course,” agreed Sirius.  
  
Professor McGonagall walked with them to Gryffindor Tower before heading to her own quarters and the three of them continued into the Gryffindor Common Room. Everyone was still up, although Ron was dozing in Hermione's lap, as they all sat around the fire in a cluster of anxious faces.  
  
“Is there any news?” asked Hermione.  
  
“Not yet,” said Remus.  
  
Draco hovered at the edge of the group until Hermione reached out a hand to him. As he stepped closer he dropped as if his strings had been cut, all his frantic energy run out. He sat on the floor and slumped half against the couch and half against her legs, and she put her hand on his head in a gesture of understanding.  
  
“Perhaps you ought to go to bed and get some sleep,” Remus suggested to the group in general.  
  
“We'll wait here,” said Fred. “We're all fine here.”  
  
Sirius brought an armchair over to the group for Remus to sit in and put a cushion on the floor by his feet for himself and they settled in to wait.  
  
After a couple of hours those who had dozed off were awoken by the fire, it was Bill floo calling in. “I'm going to come over to the school, can someone meet me at the Gates to let me in?” he said. Many of the fires around the school allowed floo calls, but the only fireplace at Hogwarts that you could floo into was the one in the Headmasters Office, and even that was warded to be only usable in the Headmasters presence.  
  
“What's happening?” gasped Ginny. “Is he all right?”  
  
“I don't really have any news, I'll fill you in on what I know when I get there. Charlie and Percy are here with Mum now,” Bill replied.  
  
“Percy,” said George with a frown.  
  
“This isn't the time for all that,” Bill said. “Will someone meet me? I could do with some food too.”  
  
“I'll go,” said Sirius. “We can stop off at the kitchens on the way back.”  
  
Bill nodded and cut the call.  
  
Sirius stood up and stretched. “I'll see what I can get for the rest of us as well,” he said. “Do you want anything in particular, love?” he asked Remus.  
  
Remus flushed slightly as he felt surprised eyes on them. “Um, no. Ah, hot chocolate for everyone would probably be good.”  
  
“Right,” said Sirius, not even noticing his slip and heading off.  
  
\--

**Fri 26th Dec**

  
Narcissa had followed the pull of the spell as quickly as she could, it wasn't the most exact of location devices. But she knew Lucius would have felt it's activation and would be expecting her arrival. In fact she was certain that her initial confusion in direction was due to him travelling somewhere else to meet her. She would not find out the Dark Lord's location by direct means, but then she had not expected to.  
  
The distance that had developed between her and her son was a painful ache next to her heart. She had thought she was doing the right thing, or perhaps the only thing, when she had stepped back from him over the summer. She cared for Lucius, but he was a difficult and headstrong man and her son had seemed so much like him, the older he had grown. It had always been the best way to cope with her disagreements with Lucius over the life he chose for them to live, to simply give him his way while staying as separate from things as she could. Their marriage was old fashioned in nature, she was not an equal partner in it and she had accepted that from the start. She had loved him as best she could, had even been in love with him for some of their years together. But she was not cruel by nature, and she was not interested in taking sides in a war any more than she had to in order to survive. And she was a survivor.  
  
But she had misjudged the situation with Draco. She should have drawn him away with her, as much as she could. He had been young enough that she might have been able to do so still. Somehow she had failed him and the trust between them seemed broken almost beyond repair. But she knew him, and she could see easily now that she had looked into his eyes that he was in love with the Potter boy. So she would risk this much for him, to win back the trust of her only child.  
  
At last she apparated the final leg of her journey and found herself in the woods not far from Malfoy Manor, with the sun just beginning to lighten the horizon. Lucius was waiting for her, but he had his wand out. She raised her hands, “It's only me.”  
  
Lucius stepped forward, but kept his wand up. “I have not heard from you since I left the Manor, forgive me if it seems suspicious that you seek me out now.”  
  
“I thought it safer for you if I stayed out of touch. But it's Christmas, Lucius.”  
  
“I have not known you to be so sentimental, my dear.”  
  
She swallowed. “Draco is missing.”  
  
Lucius frowned and let his wand drop slightly. “What do you mean?”  
  
“He stepped off the train at the start of the Yule break and then disappeared. I couldn't bear it any longer, I had to know.... do you... is he....”  
  
Lucius let his wand fall further. “I... have not seen him,” he told her. “But I believe he is alive.”  
  
“You do? Have you heard something?” Narcissa allowed herself to go to him, certain he had let his guard down enough not to hurt her.  
  
Lucius allowed her to take his arm. “He was seen at the Weasley's house yesterday. There was... an incident, but I was told he was unharmed.”  
  
“Told by whom? Please, Lucius, tell me what happened, who saw him. May I speak with them?”

Lucius looked worried. “I do not know what you have been told, but Draco's betrayal has left our family in a dangerous position. I no longer have the sway with the Dark Lord that I once had. Even coming to meet you was a risk I wish you had not forced upon me. If he realises you can locate me with a simple spell then your life is at risk as well. You must give me your ring so that you cannot do it again.”  
  
Narcissa put her hand over the ring on her finger. The thought of giving it up was more hurtful than she would have expected. It were as if everything she had was being slowly stripped from her. “No, please Lucius. I... I know I have stayed back from things in the past, but I would like to remain a part of your life. And if that means joining you among the ranks of the Dark Lord then I am willing to do that.”  
  
“Even if the Dark Lord wishes our son dead?”  
  
“I can't help Draco out here, he no longer trusts me. He fought to stay in school rather than come to me for the holidays and even when I had the Board make it clear he must come home, he ran away instead. I have no real power out here alone, please don't leave me like this. I am your wife, I should be with you,” she pleaded.  
  
Lucius looked torn, but his words were firm. “I cannot risk it, Narcissa. I am sorry, but I cannot. I have done, and will continue to do, what little I can to protect Draco. You must look after yourself as best you can.” He kissed her, then with that he took her hand and stripped her ring from her, stepped away and apparated from the clearing.  
  
Narcissa dropped to her knees and burst into tears of frustration. She had failed, and now she had nothing to offer Draco to prove her good will.  
  
–  
  
The only news Bill brought was that Arthur was still alive, but he was not stable, and that Molly was coping a little better.  
  
He made it clear there would likely be no more news until morning, and with the help of Remus they finally persuaded everyone to go to bed. Promising that someone would always be by the fire just in case of more news.  
  
Bill, Remus and Sirius took it in turns to nap on the sofa in the common room so they would hear any floo call, the other two kipping in the 7th year boys dorm on the twins beds. Ginny and Hermione had gone to the 5th year girls dorm, and Ron, Draco and the twins to the 5th year boys.  
  
But no one slept well with both Arthur and Harry to worry after.  
  
The fire finally flared green at half past seven and Charlie's head appeared, waking up Sirius.

“Is Bill there?”  
  
Sirius rubbed sleep out of his eyes and sat up.

“He's asleep upstairs. Is there news?”  
  
Charlie looked worn thin.

“You'll need to wake him, you'll need to wake them all. They have to come to the hospital, quick as they can. Can you get Dumbledore to let them floo?”  
  
Sirius' chest tightened. “I'll sort it out, they'll be there as soon as I can get them there.”  
  
“Bill knows what ward it is, I have to go.”  
  
And he was gone, though not so fast that Sirius couldn't see the tears starting to form. Sirius ran upstairs and woke Bill and Remus.

“Moony, can you fetch the Headmaster to arrange for the children to floo to St Mungo's?”  
  
“Course.” Remus replied, his voice rough with disturbed sleep.  
  
“What?” said Bill, still groggy. “They can visit him already?”  
  
Sirius put a hand on his shoulder. “Charlie said... he said you need to hurry. I don't think there's much time.”  
  
He saw the realisation break in Bill's eyes and then his face stiffen.  
  
He saw it one by one in all of their eyes as they were roused and hurried, and Bill's face was hard and white as he organised them, and they raced for the Headmaster's office leaving Sirius and Draco and Hermione standing in the common room.  
  
Then Hermione burst into tears and Draco wrapped his arms around her and let her cry on his shoulder and tried to feel sad for Arthur and for Molly and Ron and all of the Weasleys... but all he could feel was the sharp pain of terror that Harry could be next. That someone would bring him this news, perhaps his mother when she returned, and her face would be hard and white and Harry would be dead and it would be all his fault.  
  
–  
  
When Lucius returned only a few people were stirring, it was still early, and he was easily able to make his way back to the small room he was using.  
  
Part of him regretted turning Narcissa away. It was difficult being here alone... and he was alone. He only lived because he had acted as quickly as he had to get Tom out of the Manor after they had been attacked by the boys, and because he had resources the Dark Lord still required. All his work, his status among the Death Eaters, all of that had been ripped away the second Draco had turned on them and saved Harry Potter.  
  
Tom had been beyond furious, humiliated at being bested by a boy he had shown favour to. His awareness that he had shown too much favour and so made himself vulnerable only made him more furious and more willing to take that fury out on Lucius.  
  
No, this was no place for Narcissa. Even if he could be sure her sudden reappearance were not related to the recent capture of the Potter boy, he was certain Tom would only take advantage of her presence to torment him, and he would not see her hurt as well. He was only still here himself to try and thwart any attempts to kill Draco. Any chance of regaining his standing among the Death Eaters was too tenuous now to be worth the risk to his life. But he would not let the Malfoy line die out because of this, not without doing everything he could to prevent it.  
  
He knew Draco was still alive because he had seen him with his own eyes during the attack on the Burrow, and had made sure as best he could that no stray curse reached him and no Death Eater had a chance to snatch him up. He was not as powerful as the Dark Lord, but he was a formidable duellist and a master strategist. In the chaos of a pitched fight it was possible to hide a great deal.  
  
But he no longer knew what Tom's plans were, he was being kept out of the inner circle. He knew the Potter boy was still alive, but not what was planned for him. And if Narcissa had hoped to gain news of Potter's whereabouts, well he would do much for Draco, but not for Harry Potter. He was more than aware of the rumours about the two of them. The Malfoy line would be better off if Potter died as soon as possible, so that Draco might be carefully steered back into more appropriate relationships.  
  
Although how that was to happen he had no idea, he found himself deeply aware that if Lord Voldemort were to win this war then Draco could never be safe again. Of course he and Narcissa were not so very old, they could still have another child... to his horror he realised his cheeks were wet. He did not want to lose his only son, he did not want to bring another child into this nightmare, this disaster of his own making. He wanted his life back, the life he had during the years between Voldemort's supposed death and his resurrection. They had been happy and wealthy and powerful... and now in a matter of only half a year they were terrified and hunted and broken.  
  
He was a fool, and he did not know what he was doing any more.  
  
–  
  
When his breakfast was brought for him, Harry was ready. He had spent all night deciding what to do and his decision was made.  
  
“Tell Voldemort that I'll do it,” he told the masked man before him.  
  
The man paused and then hurried off, taking the breakfast with him.  
  
Harry watched after him in frustration, he was starving. They had been attacked before dinner yesterday and so he hadn't eaten since breakfast that morning. He doubted anyone had the opportunity to eat Molly's Christmas dinner, which was a damn shame. He hoped missing Christmas dinner and worrying about him was the worst the others were having to deal with.  
  
It wasn't long before he was brought before Voldemort again. Although most of the people he saw wore masks, in the large room he was brought into were several unmasked people and with a shock he saw that one of them was Peter Pettigrew. So much of a shock that he ground to a halt immediately.  
  
Pettigrew darted back a little, as if uncertain he wanted Harry to be able to see him. Harry glared after him.  
  
“Come in, Harry,” said Voldemort agreeably. “Do not let yourself be distracted by trivialities.”  
  
Harry marched over to Voldemort, hampered only by his arms being tied behind his back and his lack of a wand. “Peter Pettigrew is not a triviality,” he spat. “He betrayed my parents and framed my godfather.”  
  
Voldemort sighed and gestured to Peter to leave the room. “We have more important things to talk about.”  
  
Harry watched Wormtail scurry out before he turned back to Voldemort. “More important to you. I'm willing to get the prophecy for you and I'll admit I'd like to hear it, but it's not that important to me.” He had a sudden thought. “So if you want me to get it then you need to do something for me in return.”  
  
Voldemort darkened. “You think to bargain with me?”  
  
“We are brothers aren't we,” said Harry daringly. “Family, that's what you said. Well I'll give you what you want, I'll go to the Ministry and get you this prophecy. But in return I want Peter Pettigrew back in Azkaban where he belongs.”  
  
Voldemort mused on this. “Wormtail has been a surprisingly useful servant to me. But... very well. It is of no mind. You may take him to the Ministry with you, if you succeed in getting the prophecy my Death Eaters will leave him behind there for the Aurors to do with as they will.”  
  
“And you won't just break him out again?”  
  
“Agreed.”  
  
“No, not just an agreement. An oath that you won't. Something magically binding.”  
  
Voldemort looked at Harry in surprise. “Not such a Gryffindor after all.” He paused to consider the matter. “Very well. I will take an oath that I will have Peter Pettigrew handed to the Ministry and I will not act to free him from their custody.”  
  
The oath was arranged and before Harry knew it the preparations were being made to break into the Ministry.  
  
–  
  
Ron and the others didn't return from St Mungo's. Instead an owl arrived just before lunchtime and Professor McGonagall brought the news to Hermione and the others.

“I’m afraid Arthur Weasley passed at 8.37am this morning. Mrs Weasley has taken the children back to the Burrow.”

Hermione let out a muffled sob.

“The Burrow has been re-warded and is being guarded by Aurors for the time being, so they should all be safe there. But the two of you will be remaining here. I have informed your parents, Miss Granger, and they agree that the school is the safest place for you, at least until we have more information.”

Hermione thanked Professor McGonagall quietly.  
  
“I'm sorry,” said Draco, once the portrait had closed again. “We shouldn't have...”  
  
“Don't,” said Hermione. “It's not your fault that you and Harry wanted to have Christmas dinner with your friends.”  
  
“But...”  
  
“No,” she said loudly. “The only people to blame are Voldemort and the awful people who serve him! The people to blame are whichever of them cast the awful curses that ripped Mr Weasley apart! And if I find out who they were I'll... I'll...”  
  
“We all will, Hermione,” said Sirius. “They'll get theirs, I promise.”  
  
Remus took his hand.  
  
Hermione seemed to calm as quickly as she'd roused. “Can we... can we go somewhere else. I don't want to stay in the tower without Ron here.”  
  
“We can go to my room,” said Draco. “That way no one else can bother us.”  
  
“Thank you,” Hermione wiped her eyes and led the way out of the Common Room.  
  
–  
  
Things had moved quickly, which suited Harry. He didn't want to be here a moment longer than he had to be. The Ministry was his best chance of getting free, Voldemort had no reason to let him out of this place other than to fetch this prophecy. He'd still be without a wand and surrounded by Death Eaters, but at least there was a slim chance that an opportunity to escape might appear.  
  
They were going tonight, and only five people were travelling with him as they seemed worried a larger force would attract attention and they wanted to slip in and out without detection.  
  
Harry knew only one of the five people going, Wormtail. The rat had no idea Voldemort was about to sell him out either, which gave Harry a warm sense of satisfaction.  
  
The others were Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange, whom Harry only recognised from the pensieve memory he had seen last year, and assumed must have escaped Azkaban recently along with Pettigrew, and two masked Death Eaters whose faces he had not seen and names he had not been told. He had not been allowed to stay for the bulk of the planning, which was frustrating but hardly surprising. But at least he had been fed, and he had been in the Ministry before, so he had a vague idea where things were.  His trial for using underage magic in front of a Muggle seemed a very long time ago now, it had been a long and complicated few months.  
  
They travelled to the Ministry by floo, coming out in the grand entrance hall which was at the moment eerily dark and silent.  
  
“This way,” said a voice Harry recognised with a start that almost made him stumble. One of the masked men was Lucius Malfoy.  
  
“We know which way to go, Lucius,” said the second masked man disdainfully. “You're not the only one who's ever been in the Ministry of Magic.”  
  
“I'm the only one whose been here in the last fourteen years,” Malfoy replied sharply. “So perhaps you shouldn't be so quick to dismiss me, Rookwood.”  
  
Harry was distracted from the argument by Bellatrix Lestrange, who had him tightly by the arm and had leaned in to hiss in his ear. “I hope your little boyfriend appreciated my Yule gift.”  
  
Harry looked at her. “You sent that?”  
  
“Well I had to make up for fourteen years of no presents, he is my nephew after all, and the last of the Black line. That means he's ours, Potter. One way or another. My gift was just a little reminder of that.”  
  
Harry tried to focus on his surroundings. Looking for something, anything, that he could use to get away.  
  
They were travelling the same route as he had taken to get to his trial and he suddenly remembered seeing Lucius Malfoy down here before. Was this why Lucius Malfoy had been down here that day?  
  
Suddenly they turned a corner and before him was that corridor with the courtroom off to the side and the plain black door at the end, but it wasn't empty. There was a woman standing guard at the door.  
  
Before Harry could so much as make a squeak, Bellatrix had her hand over his mouth and was dragging him to the side as the other wizards stunned the woman simultaneously before she could get off a single spell.  
  
Harry was only thankful she hadn't been killed, although Bellatrix kicked her in the face as he was dragged past.  
  
The man called Rookwood was the one who opened the door. It led into a circular room full of doors. “The Room of Past and Future,” he said clearly, and the doors spun around and around and then stopped. They opened the one in front of Rookwood and stepped through into a brightly lit room full of clocks, Harry was dragged through the room at speed, unable to take much in. “Where are we?” he gasped as they stopped momentarily by a large bell jar with an egg that turned into a bird and then back into an egg again.  
  
“The Department of Mysteries,” answered Lucius Malfoy curtly.  
  
They passed through another door and into a large and dusty room full of shelves and shelves of crystal balls, each shelf numbered and each ball labelled. But most looked as if they hadn't been touched in years.  
  
“We must touch nothing but the prophecy we are here for,” warned Rookwood. “Touching any other prophecy will set off an alarm.”  
  
And that was exactly what Harry had been waiting for. He had been remarkably cooperative up until now and Bellatrix had let her grip loosen. With a jerk and a lurch, Harry threw himself at the nearest shelf and used his head and his shoulder to knock as many of the dusty glass balls over as he could.  
  
Bellatrix shrieked with anger and grabbed him back to her, though he kicked a few more over with his feet as he went, just for good measure. There was a pleasing shattering of glass and from each broken ball a voice rose making a small cacophony of prophecies around them.  
  
Rodolphus aimed his wand at Harry.  
  
“Everyone stop,” shouted Rookwood. “Keep a hold of the boy, if he is unconscious or unwilling we will not be able to take the prophecy. It must be his hand and by his own choice! Quickly, we have little time now that they know we are here.”  
  
They began racing down the aisles, Harry did his best to trip and stumble as much as possible to slow them down and eventually Rodolphus grabbed him up and he and Bellatrix virtually carried him between them. But it wasn't long before he was dropped to his feet in front of a dusty crystal ball marked “S.P.T. to A.P.W.B.D. Dark Lord and (?)Harry Potter”.  
  
“Go on then,” panted Bellatrix. “Pick it up.”  
  
“Why should I?” said Harry, breathless himself.  
  
“You made a deal,” rasped Rodolphus. “The rat for the prophecy.”  
  
“The what?” said Wormtail.  
  
Bellatrix hissed and spinning she cast “Stupefy, Incarcerous,” on Wormtail, who fell over with a squeak, dropping his wand, and lay there helplessly, wound in rope. “There,” she snarled. “Now pick it up.”  
  
“I can't,” said Harry smugly. “My hands are tied together.”  
  
With another hiss of frustration Bellatrix released his hands, but bound them again straight away in front of him instead of behind him. “Now pick it up.”  
  
“And then what?” said Harry. “You bundle me back off to Voldemort? I don't think so.”  
  
“This is ridiculous,” Rodolphus levelled his wand at Harry again. “Pick it up or I will make you.”  
  
“Except he said you can't,” said Harry, gesturing at Rookwood with his chin.  
  
“By hell I can't,” said Rodolphus. “Crucio.”  
  
Harry's body twisted and burned and he felt himself falling back, before he was grabbed by someone. The pain stopped.  
  
“Careful,” snapped Lucius Malfoy. “If he knocks the prophecy over it could break and I don't need to tell you what the Dark Lord will do if we destroy the only record of it.”  
  
Suddenly a voice came from down the aisle. “They're here!” it shouted.  
  
And they were under fire.  
  
Harry dived for the ground, and not just any patch of ground. He had watched where Wormtail's wand had fallen and he threw himself towards it as best he could.  
  
He was scrabbling around with his hands still tied, trying to pick it up, when Lucius Malfoy dropped to the ground next to him and pulled the wand away from Harry. “Get the prophecy for me and I will help you escape,” he hissed.  
  
Harry stopped scrabbling and stared at Lucius Malfoy, who was eye to eye with him firing off the odd curse over the top of Harry and Wormtail's prone bodies.  
  
Malfoy spoke fast. “Get the prophecy and give it to me. In return I will release your hands, give you this wand and do nothing to prevent your escape. If I return to the Dark Lord with the prophecy he will be pleased and I will be far better placed to protect Draco from him than I have been. I think that is something we both want.”  
  
“I thought you...”  
  
“There is no time. I only care about protecting Draco, I swear it to you on the entire Malfoy line of which he is the only heir. Get me the prophecy, Potter, and give me a chance to get back on the Dark Lord's good side. For Draco's sake.”  
  
Harry had to think fast. So he did. “Release my hands first. Prove I can trust you.”  
  
With a sweep of Malfoy's wand Harry's hands were free.  
  
Harry jumped up and with the reflexes of a seeker had the prophecy in his hand and was back on the floor before the others had even noticed he had stood up. It helped that the three other Death Eaters were being kept pretty busy by whomever the alarm had called in. It took him another moments pause, but trusting his instincts he thrust the glass ball into Lucius Malfoy's hand.  
  
“Thank you,” Lucius gasped, seeming shocked that his gambit had worked. “Please... tell Draco I am doing what I can.” Then he pushed Peter Pettigrew's wand into Harry's hand and was moving away.  
  
Harry wasted no more time, he stunned Rodolphus Lestrange from his prone position on the floor. Wormtail's wand fought him a little, but he could manage it. Looking around, Lucius Malfoy seemed to have vanished, although how he had done so under such heavy fire, Harry had no idea.  
  
With only two people left defending their position, Bellatrix and Rookwood were getting desperate and losing ground. Trying to figure out what was going on Harry scanned the area and thought he recognised Sirius ducking in and out just down the aisle. He wasn't the only one.  
  
“Cousin,” snarled Bellatrix and raced towards Sirius casting hexes and howling. “Blood traitor!”  
  
“Bellatrix, no!” shouted Rookwood and then realised he was the only person left, he spun around in surprise and was hit by a curse of some sort that had him folding toward Harry, who rolled quickly out of the way.  
  
He could hear Sirius and Bellatrix casting curses at each other amid a great deal of breaking glass, but they were no longer in sight. He got to his feet, “Um, hello?” he shouted. “Lucius Malfoy got away, I think.”  
  
The woman who had been guarding the door appeared round a corner and shortly behind her came Professor Lupin. “Harry,” he said and ran towards him. “Are you all right?”  
  
“Yeah, I'm fine,” Harry said. He was almost surprised to realise that himself. “There were only five with me, three of them are here, he prodded Wormtail with his foot. Bellatrix Lestrange went running after Sirius and Lucius Malfoy got away. But... I kind of let him get away. So I think you should help Sirius.”  
  
“Right,” said Lupin. He turned to the young woman, who had pink hair and what looked like the remains of a broken nose. “You make sure this lot get dealt with and I'll go make sure Sirius is okay.” And then he ran off in the direction of the duel.  
  
The woman smiled at Harry. “Tonks,” she said, and stuck out her hand. “Let's get the rest of these bastards tied up then.”  
  
Before he knew it Harry was being led back out of the Department of Mysteries by Tonks, several other Aurors, Professor Lupin and Sirius. Sirius was limping a bit, and had blood smeared across his forehead, but was otherwise fine despite his extended duel with Bellatrix. Floating along with them were the unconscious and bound bodies of Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange, Rookwood and Peter Pettigrew.  
  
“Where will they go?” wondered Harry. “We can't just send them back to Azkaban to escape again.”  
  
“We'll keep 'em in the cells here for now,” said Tonks. “They're not getting away this time, don't you worry. If I have to sit on 'em myself, I will.”  
  
“Come on, Harry,” said Professor Lupin. “We need to get you back to the school, the Aurors will deal with them now.” He sounded tired.  
  
“We're going back to the school?” asked Harry.  
  
Sirius looped his arm around Harry's shoulders. “Come on pup, Draco and Hermione will be desperate to see you.”


	23. In From the Cold

**Sat 27th Dec. (very early)**  
  
They flooed directly into the Headmasters office from the Ministry, using a password to get through the Headmaster's wards.  
  
Draco and Hermione were waiting there with Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall.  
  
“Harry!” shouted Hermione and descended on him, hugging him to within an inch of his life.  
  
Harry untangled himself from her hair, laughing. “Ease up, Hermione.”  
  
Draco was still sitting down, he looked pale and relieved.  “How...”  
  
“You are never going to believe who helped me escape,” Harry announced. “Your Dad!”  
  
“What?”  
  
Harry suddenly paused and turned towards Dumbledore, the momentary euphoria of escape beginning to wear off.  
  
Dumbledore looked back at him. “I am pleased to see you are well, Harry.”  
  
“I gave him the prophecy,” Harry replied flatly.  
  
Dumbledore looked at him seriously over the top of his glasses and did not deny that he understood what Harry was talking about. “To whom did you give it?”  
  
“Lucius Malfoy. Voldemort wanted it, Snape only told him the first part of it and he wants to know the whole thing. He thought I would know. But I didn’t,” Harry’s tone was becoming pointed. “I didn’t know what he was talking about. He had to explain.”  
  
“What prophecy?” asked Hermione.  
  
“Professor Lupin, Professor McGonagall,” said Dumbledore. “Could you take Hermione and Draco back to their beds. I need to discuss some things with Harry.”  
  
“Right,” said Professor Lupin.  
  
“Hold on a minute,” said Harry, holding his hand out to stop Lupin. “I’m only going to tell them exactly what you say anyway, so I think they should stay right here. In fact...” he turned to Hermione. “Where’s Ron?”  
  
Hermione paled and looked to Sirius.  
  
Harry’s heart thumped. “What’s happened, was someone hurt? Was Ron hurt?”  
  
“No,” said Hermione. “Not Ron, he’s fine. He’s… at home.”  
  
“It was Arthur Weasley, Harry,” said Professor McGonagall, gently. “He passed this morning, I’m sorry.”  
  
Harry’s face bleached of all colour and Sirius guided him quickly to the sofa where he sat down hard. “He’s dead?” he looked at Draco.  
  
Draco nodded.  
  
“He was really badly hurt,” said Hermione. “They took him straight to St Mungo’s but… they couldn’t… they worked on him all night.”  
  
Harry felt as if he had been punched in the gut, he couldn't quite get enough air into his lungs, and it hurt. But as he forced himself to take in the information he shifted from shock to anger. Soon he was so angry he couldn’t figure out what to do with himself. He couldn’t breathe with it, everything was spinning around in his head. The prophecy, Dumbledore keeping secrets from him, Snape, Arthur Weasley, Lucius Malfoy, Voldemort. He’d got Arthur Weasley killed…. Just like he’d got Cedric killed. He stood up, scrubbing at his face unconsciously. “I think… I just...” he looked at Dumbledore. “I need to know what the prophecy says.”  
  
“I understand,” began Dumbledore.  
  
“Do you?” Harry shouted. “Cause I bloody well don’t!”  
  
“Harry Potter...” Professor McGonagall began, incensed at his tone.  
  
“No!” said Harry more calmly. “No, I think maybe Professor Dumbledore was right. I think I do need to talk to him alone.”  
  
Dumbledore nodded to Professor Lupin, Professor McGonagall and Sirius and they began to draw Hermione and Draco out of the room. But Draco broke away.  
  
“Wait,” Draco said. “I just… I need to know...”  
  
Harry reached out a hand for him to take. “What is it?” Harry asked. “Your father’s all right as far as I know.”  
  
“No, not him. I...” he looked at Professor Dumbledore then back at Harry. “My mother, did you see my mother at all?”  
  
“Mrs Malfoy?” said Harry, confused. “No, I didn’t see her. Not wherever I was being held and not at the Ministry either. Why?”  
  
Draco looked at Dumbledore. “Do you think she...”  
  
“I’m afraid I do not know, Draco,” answered Dumbledore. “I believed that she intended to try and locate Harry if she could, but I cannot guess at why she did not return as promised. I will be unable to look into it immediately, but Professor Snape will no doubt be willing to help you if you speak to him. Professor Lupin, perhaps you could escort Draco down to Professor Snape’s quarters.”  
  
Professor Lupin nodded and the door closed behind them.  
  
And finally they were alone.  
  
Harry had calmed down a little, but there was still so much he needed to understand, and he knew that he hadn't really taken in the fact that Arthur Weasley was dead. He knew it was true, but it didn't feel true. It felt like Mr Weasley was still at home and that if Harry went there now he could still see him, speak to him, say he was sorry...  
  
Dumbledore indicated for him to sit down. “I have your wand here, Harry.”  
  
He picked the wand up from his desk and handed it back to Harry who sat down and held it loosely in his lap, staring down at it.  
  
“Before I tell you about the prophecy, Harry, it would be helpful if you could tell me what happened to you while you were missing. Any information you have might help us locate Lord Voldemort.”  
  
Harry brought his mind back to the events of the past day and a half. “I’ll give you the basics, but then I need some questions answered. If you tell me how to I can dump the whole thing into the pensieve afterwards and you can rake over it all you like for clues as to where I was.”  
  
“Very well,” agreed Dumbledore.  
  
“All right then,” Harry marshalled his memories. “I was knocked out at the Burrow so I don’t know who actually grabbed me, when I came to I was in a dungeon or a cell of some sort. Voldemort was there and he said we were brothers now because of the blood that he took from me when he came back. He was really creepy, going on about us being a family... and then he asked me about the prophecy. I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about, which surprised him. He said he thought you would have told me. Then he showed me a pensieve memory of Snape telling him about the prophecy.” Harry broke off and glowered at Dumbledore. “You never mentioned that Snape was the one who sent him after my parents, it’s his fault they were killed!”  
  
There was a moments awkward silence as the accusation hung in the air, before Dumbledore responded, “I will not deny that what you saw was true, Harry. But Severus Snape did not know whom the prophecy he had partially overheard referred to, and he came to regret passing on that information more than I believe he regrets any other act in his life.”  
  
Harry sneered at that. “Why should I believe that? I already know Snape hated my Dad.”  
  
“Your father and Professor Snape did not get along,” said Dumbledore patiently. “But it may surprise you to know that your mother and Professor Snape were once very close. As soon as he realised that Voldemort had picked you as the one the prophecy referred to he did everything in his power to prevent Lily from being harmed. That one moment led to his coming to me and offering his services to the Order, his regret at being unable to save Lily changed his path in life irrevocably and he has worked to protect you ever since.”  
  
Harry frowned.  
  
“But please, Harry. How did you come to be in the Ministry?”  
  
So Harry continued to explain what else had occurred in the day and a bit he had spent as a prisoner. “… I knew I might be able to escape on my own still, but it seemed like a better bet to make the deal with Mr Malfoy.  And… something in me believed him, I don’t know why.”  
  
“I dare say I have always found you to be quite a good judge of character, Harry. Your instincts have always served you well in such cases.”  
  
“I guess. Anyway, I gave him the prophecy. So I suppose Voldemort has it now. And I think it’s time you told me exactly what it said.”  
  
–  
  
But Voldemort did not have the prophecy.  
  
Rather than returning directly to the Dark Lord, Lucius Malfoy took himself to a small property he owned not far from Vauxhall in London, one he was quite certain no other wizards knew about. It had been some time since he had last been there and the rooms were cold and musty and slightly damp. But he took no time to make them more comfortable.

He had not lied to Harry, not entirely. Taking the prophecy back to Voldemort in the hope that he would improve his standing again was one option. But first he had to hear the prophecy himself, it was vital he know whether the Dark Lord would be pleased or angered by it’s contents. Would hearing it in full be worth losing four Death Eaters and Harry Potter? Lucius did not want the fate that befell many messengers of bad tidings. But even more importantly, the knowledge it contained would aid him in deciding for once and all whether to continue following the Dark Lord. Was Harry Potter destined to defeat him?

And so, once he had ascertained his properties security, he sat down and activated the memory sphere.

The spindly form of Sybill Trelawny, the current Hogwarts divination teacher, arose from the glass and began to speak in a voice very unlike her own. “The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies....”  
  
Lucius listened to it three times over and then stared into space as the words percolated through him.  
  
Then he slammed his fist into the table in frustration. Damn divination all to hell for it’s vague and useless spoutings. Neither can live while the other survives? What did that even mean? Potter had already vanquished the Dark Lord, so that could be said to be irrelevant as already having come to pass. The Dark Lord had marked him, with a scar. But either must die? Voldemort had not yet truly died, and neither had Potter, so that part was surely still to come. So one of them had to kill the other, personally, but it wasn’t definite which way around. But Potter had some sort of power that Voldemort didn’t know about.  
  
One thing he knew for certain, he did not think Voldemort would be especially over joyed at the prophecy’s full content. So the moment had come. Was he to return to the Dark Lord, offer the prophecy and try to spin his escape as a victory, or was it time to accept that his family would be safer siding with Potter, who may have some mysterious power that could tip the scales in his favour and was already inclined to favour Draco.  
  
Running alone was not an option, only with the help of someone like Dumbledore did he have a strong enough chance of escaping the Dark Lord’s anger at his betrayal. And if he would protect Severus Snape, as it appeared he was doing, then perhaps he would protect Lucius. In return for information of course.  
  
He supposed he could get himself caught by the Aurors, and thus remain apparently still loyal... But prison did not appeal, and the more often Potter escaped the Dark Lord’s clutches the more likely it began to seem that he may eventually prevail. Draco apparently believed so, for he had not taught his son to chose the losing side for the sake of a fleeting emotional attachment. His son must believe Potter had a genuine chance of defeating Voldemort.  
  
And certainly Tom was not the same man Lucius had known fifteen years ago. His madness was closer to the surface than it had been before, his humanity further from view. And he did not favour Lucius as well as he had before his fall, even before Draco had attacked him he had been more distant, less complimentary, more impatient. It was hard to even think of him as Tom now. When they had first met he had still been a man, inhumanly pale and with a hint of red to the eye, but a man all the same. And Lucius had been a teenager still, young and lithe and pleasing to the eye and easily impressed by all of Tom’s power and his clever way of looking at the world and twisting it to his will.  
  
The world had changed, and Lucius had changed… and Tom… Tom wanted everything back just as it had been before he had disappeared. And the more Lucius’ will wavered, the higher the chance that Tom would see through him. Lucius was only a passable Occlumens, he could not be sure of hiding the building layers of uncertainty growing within him…  
  
No, there was only one choice really.  
  
–  
  
“Then I have to kill him… or he’s going to kill me,” said Harry slowly, turning over the words of the prophecy in his head.  
  
“Prophecy is a complex area, Harry,” said Dumbledore. “How you approach it is important. Voldemort took the part he heard literally and went off to find and destroy this child before he could be harmed himself. But it was only by acting on what he had heard that he marked you and caused his own near death. Had he ignored the prophecy it may never have come to pass, it may have sat on a dusty shelf until it was completely forgotten, as happens to so many other prophecies. Just as the only reason that you must kill him or he must kill you, is that he will not rest until he has done so, and you will not allow him to harm your friends and family without fighting back. His choices and your choices, and not the prophecy at all.”  
  
“You mean it only matters because he thinks it matters?” Harry asked.  
  
“Exactly, Harry.”  
  
“Then what’s the point?” asked Harry in exasperation.  
  
“That I do not know. It is for each of us to discover for ourselves. Myself and the Order of the Phoenix, some of whom you met today, are working hard to understand why Lord Voldemort did not die when his killing curse rebounded on him. If you are to defeat him eventually, and it seems likely that it will be you if it is anyone, then we must understand the origin of his power over death. I have theories, but they are as of yet only theories. Something held his spirit in this world, despite his body being destroyed, and until we can be sure of vanquishing both body and spirit we are at a standstill, and I will do all I can to keep you from him until we can be confident of victory. This is not yet your battle, Harry.”    
  
“I wish I could believe that was true,” said Harry glumly.  
  
\--  
  
After a confused disagreement in the corridors, Professor McGonagall had escorted Hermione back to Gryffindor Tower. It was only a couple of hours before the castle would be waking for the morning, or those who had slept the night would be.  
Sirius was left lurking in the corridor outside Dumbledore’s office to make sure Harry was all right when he left, and Professor Lupin led Draco down to the dungeons.  
  
Draco had insisted on waking Professor Snape now, rather than waiting. He knew Snape wouldn’t mind, not when it was so important.  
  
And so the three of them found themselves in the entrance hall just an hour before breakfast was due to start.  
  
“I still think you should let me accompany you,” Lupin was saying.  
  
“I don’t need an escort,” Snape replied. “I am simply...”  
  
“You betrayed him, Snape!” Lupin retorted. “If Narcissa Malfoy is working for You-Know-Who then you could be walking right into his hands.”  
  
“I can handle Narcissa Malfoy.”  
  
“Maybe you should take Professor Lupin with you,” said Draco. “If my Mother is in trouble...”  
  
“I...”  
  
But before Snape could argue any further an owl fluttered down towards them, landing on his shoulder and peering at Draco. It was his Mother’s owl.  
  
Draco fumbled for the letter, which was addressed to him, and got pecked soundly on the finger for being clumsy.  
  
_‘Draco,_  
  
_I am sorry I did not return to speak to you in person. I admit that I was unsure how to tell you that I had failed to get any useful information. I had very much wanted to help you._  
  
_But circumstances have changed and now it is you that I am asking for help...'_  
  
–  
  
Harry was just about to leave Dumbledore’s office when the door opened in his face to reveal Professor Snape followed by Draco, Sirius and Professor Lupin.  
  
Snape swept past Harry without an acknowledgement and handed a letter to the Headmaster.  
  
Harry looked to Draco, who seemed to be bubbling over with some sort of mix of excitement and terror. He grabbed Harry’s hand and pulled him back into the office properly.  
  
Dumbledore was reading the letter, and when he was finished he glanced at Draco and then looked at Professor Snape. “Your thoughts?”  
  
“It could be a trap or it could just as plausibly be completely true. With Lucius the most likely option is that it is both.”  
  
“In what way could it be both?”  
  
“Lucius likes to keep his options open. He may be legitimately seeking sanctuary...” Harry gasped and tightened his hold on Draco’s hand as Snape swept on, “but should circumstances indicate it the better option he will turn on us as quickly as he appears to have turned on the Dark Lord. There is little true loyalty among Death Eaters, most value their own skins and their family line above all else. Another option is that Lucius is being manipulated, he may believe what he says and it could still be a trap manufactured for us by his Master.”  
  
“He helped me escape,” Harry blurted out. “Voldemort surely can’t have wanted him to do that.”  
  
Dumbledore looked contemplative. “In such situations sometimes there is little to gain from thinking through the maze of circuitous motivations that may or may not be. We cannot know Lucius’ mind, at least not with out seeing him in person. Nor have we any way to tell who may or may not be involved. We have one question only to answer. What are we willing to risk and is it worth what we may gain?”  
  
Draco looked troubled, “They’ve already used me to get to Harry twice. So it seems pretty likely they’re doing it again, or using my parents to do it.”  
  
Harry frowned, “What do they actually want us to do?”  
  
“My Mother wants someone to come and meet with her and Father,” Draco answered. “She doesn’t say who, just someone who can speak for Dumbledore.”  
  
“Obviously, should anyone go, it will be myself,” said Snape.  
  
Sirius muttered something.  
  
“Something to say, Black?” Snape snarled, looking back at him and Lupin.  
  
But it was Lupin who answered, “I don’t think anyone should go alone. And I think it may be worth the risk, Lucius Malfoy must know a great deal about You-Know-Who’s location and plans.”  
  
“We should go in strength and bring him in whether he likes it or not,” added Sirius. “Even if it’s a trap they won’t be expecting that.”  
  
“Stay out of it, Black, strategy never was your strong point,” said Snape.  
  
“And getting stuck in and actually doing something was never yours, Snivellus,” argued Sirius.  
  
Lupin just looked at the ceiling.  
  
Dumbledore broke in before they could get into it properly. “I agree that the gain may be worth the risk, if we act quickly. Voldemort will not stay put for long if he realises that Lucius has gone astray. He may already be planning to move, after tonight’s events. He will have expected his Death Eaters to return back by now. I will contact some of the others working for us within the Ministry. Draco, please reply to your Mother’s letter at once. Tell her that we are willing to meet in the Hogshead at... eleven.”  
  
“A little public isn’t it?” asked Lupin.  
  
“And the better for it,” answered Dumbledore. “The owner of the Hogshead is… trustworthy, and we know the area well and can easily station a number of people as backup. Voldemort knows that Hogsmeade is almost as much our territory as Hogwarts is and will find it hard to mount any serious attack there without us seeing it coming. Severus, can you go down there now and begin to make arrangements? I will speak to Kingsley.” He looked to the boys. “Draco, I understand that you must be anxious for news, but once you have sent the letter please return to your rooms with Sirius.”  
  
“Come on,” Draco said to Harry and pulled him out of the room.  
  
Once Draco had sent an owl off to his mother they found themselves once more in Draco’s room, both a little shell shocked with how swiftly the events of the past day had occurred.  
  
Harry suddenly felt exhausted, as he sat down on the edge of the bed. He had only had a very little sleep on a hard stone floor the night previous and that was now 24 hours ago. The sun was swiftly brightening through the window and causing his eyes to burn uncomfortably. He turned his head into Draco's shoulder to avoid the light as a massive yawn stretched his face so wide that it hurt.  
  
“If you want to sleep, you can use my room,” Sirius offered.  
  
Draco said nothing, but Harry felt his grip tighten on his arm.  
  
“No that's okay,” Harry said through another yawn. “I'll just nap here while we wait, I want to know if there's any news.”  
  
Now Draco was smothering his own yawns in response to Harry's contagious yawning and even Sirius was trying not to let it get the better of him. No one had slept properly over the last two nights, just snatched naps at odd times whenever they felt able to.  
  
“Both of you get a couple of hours sleep,” said Sirius. “I'll go and find some coffee and wake you both at eleven, if that's what you want?”  
  
“You promise you'll wake us?” said Draco.  
  
“I swear, and I'll find out as much as I can of the plan too,” promised Sirius, and left the boys to curl up, still dressed, on the bed.  
  
As they lay down, face to face and knee to knee, Harry whispered, “I'm sorry I forgot my wand.”  
  
Draco squeezed his hand. “I'm sorry too.”  
  
“For what?”  
  
“I don't know, it was my gift that called them there. It's the second time you've been in danger because of me. No, the third, I was the one that talked you into going into the forest on Halloween.”  
  
“And you were the one who risked his life to save us that time, getting a message to Dumbledore, and the first time when you could have escaped without us. And your father kind of saved me this time. So you don't need to apologise for anything.”  
  
But Harry was falling asleep even as he spoke, and Draco's lids were drooping as well. Within moments both boys were asleep.  
  
–  
  
Remus was the last to take his place at the shadowed table in a corner of the main bar of the Hogshead. Like many of the denizens of Hogsmeade's least salubrious venue, he wore a cloak that partly disguised his appearance. But they made an unusual trio with Hagrid's vast bulk against one wall and Professor Flitwick's diminuitive form perched on a stool against the other. But Hagrid was a regular, so they drew only casual glances.  
  
Remus had done a round of the area before entering, all seemed like business as usual. Quiet in the post-Christmas lull. Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall were in the Three Broomsticks, which was still gaily decorated for Christmas, unlike the grubby interior of the Hogshead. Nymphadora Tonks, in disguise, was idly wandering the village's main street. She had grinned at him in a most disturbing manner when he had passed her and then proceeded to fall over a clump of grass growing between two paving stones. But Remus had seen her fight at the Ministry and he knew she could be relied upon when it mattered.  
  
Severus Snape was upstairs waiting in the private room he had booked for the meeting. This was the one point Remus disagreed on. Anti-apparition wards were all very well, but they wouldn't stop a portkey, not much could. Nor would they save him from a killing curse, should this prove to be an assassination attempt rather than a kidnapping. Snape shouldn't be meeting them alone. But Dumbledore trusted Snape's judgement, and it was nearly eleven, so there was nothing to be done about it now except to stay alert and keep his hand on his wand as he pretended to relax and sip his drink.  
  
With his hand casually laid on the table he could watch the seconds tick by on his wrist, the door hovering on the edge of his peripheral vision. The minute hand hit the hour mark with no movement. He could see Hagrid fidgeting just under the table with the umbrella he thought no one knew that he hid his wand inside.  
  
At one minute past eleven the pub door swung silently open and two hooded figures stepped through it, their faces entirely hidden from view. The smaller one walked to the bar and spoke briefly to the barman, the taller remaining a few feet behind, well way from anyone. Then they turned and swiftly passed through the door that led to the upstairs room.  
  
Remus got up and went to the bar himself, ostensibly to buy a whisky and some unpleasant looking nuts.  
  
The barman, who had earlier introduced himself as Abe, said quietly, “Blonde woman, looked in her 30s.”  
  
“And the other?” asked Remus hopefully.  
  
Abe shrugged his thin, slightly stooping shoulders. “A man I think, slender and tall, but you could see that for yourself. He was too far away and his hood too low to see anything more.” He put the bowl of nuts down and moved away, leaving Remus to lean against the bar and poke at them, remaining there only a few feet from the upstairs door. He swirled his drink and waited.  
  
–  
  
Severus Snape told himself that he knew Lucius Malfoy well enough to be in no real danger. He remembered Lucius from Hogwarts, although with six years between them they had very little interaction there. Lucius had been his first real contact with the Death Eaters proper. At that time it had been Lucius' job to meet with suitable sixth and seventh year Slytherin students and charm them into deeper involvement with the Dark Lord's plans. And Severus had been charmed to have this wealthy, pureblooded, popular, Lord-to-be giving him attention and praise. Telling him how much better he was than the James Potter's and Sirius Black's of the world. Promising him he would be able to take whatever, or whomever, he wanted once he had risen to the top of wizarding society, through skill and magical power alone.  
  
Yes, Lucius Malfoy was very charming when it suited him to be. But Severus was no longer swayed by charm. He had learned long ago that you could not truly just take what you wanted, you could only wait for it to be given. And that if you were Severus Snape it would more than likely be denied. Better to never want it in the first place.  
  
And so he did not want Lucius Malfoy to genuinely defect, nor did he hope for it. He simply waited to find out what would be, and tried to ignore the gnawing fear that the universe was about to disappoint him again. He let his mind fall calm and his shoulders relax, ready to smoothly whip his wand out.  
  
There was a light knock at the door.  
  
“Enter,” he said, mind reaching out for any awareness of what was coming.  
  
The door swung open and a black cloaked figure stepped in gracefully, followed immediately by another. Snape stood as the taller figure closed the door behind them, glancing cautiously into the hall as they did so.  
  
Narcissa Malfoy took down the hood of her cloak as soon as the door was shut. She stayed back by the door, glancing at the windowed wall across from her.  
  
“There are dissembling charms on the windows and an anti-apparition charm on the room,” Snape stated. “And if you are truly here in good  faith I suggest you place your wands on the table where I can see them.”  
  
“And stand unarmed in Dumbledore's territory, before a man whose loyalties seem to switch on a regular basis?” said the cloaked man in Lucius Malfoy's dry voice. “I think not.”  
  
“I appear to be no more prone to switching loyalties than yourself, Lucius,” responded Snape. “I am aware the Dark Lord seeks my death, I'm sure it would raise you greatly in his esteem should you not only provide him with the prophecy, but also my head.”  
  
Snape tensed momentarily as Lucius Malfoy reached into his cloak, but the item he revealed was a glass memory ball, held out to Snape in one hand. “The prophecy,” said Lucius, unnecessarily.  
  
“Or yet another portkey trap?” suggested Snape. “I presume you were the one behind the clasp Draco received for Christmas.”  
  
“On the contrary,” said Lucius. “My delightful sister-in-law Bellatrix sprang that trap. I was unaware of the plan until it was already in motion. Thanks to Draco's recent choices, I am no longer part of the Dark Lord's inner circle.”  
  
“And yet you were one of only five sent into the Ministry with Potter?” challenged Snape.  
  
“And the only Death Eater that has recent familiarity with the Ministry and yet no cover to be exposed should they be caught.” Lucius pulled back his hood with his free hand. “We can bandy suspicion back and forward all day, but we have better things to do. Dumbledore's terms?”  
  
Snape nodded sharply and sat back down, indicating the other chairs as he did.  
  
Lucius and Narcissa pulled them back a little, further from both the windows and Snape, and sat down as well. A table sat precariously between them, a slender barrier.  
  
“If you want protection then you will relinquish your wands and the prophecy to me and allow me to use Legilimency to confirm your intentions,” Snape told them. “You will be taken to meet with Dumbledore and you will answer any and all questions he has regarding  the Dark Lord and his plans. You will go where we tell you and you will be available whenever we may have further questions.” Snape waited for their response.  
  
“I want assurances that I will not be turned in to the Ministry and that Dumbledore will arrange for my vaults and properties to remain mine, and be returned to me in full when it is practical to do so,” replied Lucius. “Any information I give Dumbledore that may incriminate me will remain out of the Ministry's hands and he will speak for me to the Wizengamot once I am able to safely return to society.”  
  
Snape laughed mockingly, “Unsurprising that you are more concerned with your status and money than your life or your family.”  
  
Lucius narrowed his eyes, “My status and money are Draco's status and money. My reputation and lands will be his. Something you would not understand, having no status or family to speak of! I will not leave him the son of a convict without a penny to his name.”  
  
“Draco is our primary concern,” said Narcissa. “Wherever we are sent we will go happily, as long as he goes with us.”  
  
Snape's fist curled. “Absolutely not.”  
  
“He is our son!” she insisted.  
  
“And we have had this discussion before,” replied Snape. “Your insistence on him leaving the safety of the school over Christmas has already led to his endangerment, the fortunately temporary capture of Harry Potter, and the death of Arthur Weasley.”  
  
Lucius only raised an eyebrow, but Narcissa drew in a breath of shock. “I had not heard that anyone had been killed.”  
  
“And now you have, which amply proves we are willing to die to protect your son. Draco is safest under the protection of Albus Dumbledore, at school. Neither he nor I will agree to anything which may affect his safety. You must agree to end any attempts to have the Hogwarts Governors or the Ministry remove him from our care. If you are not able to trust us in this, then we will be at a stalemate.”  
  
There was silence.  
  
“And if we speak to Dumbledore and are not satisfied with arrangements for our safety?” asked Lucius.  
  
“You agree to trust us now, or you will not meet with the Headmaster at all. Once you have stepped that far there is no stepping back,” replied Snape.  
  
Lucius pursed his lips. “And if I wish to leave now, with no bargain made, I will be allowed to do so?”  
  
“Yes,” lied Snape smoothly.  
  
Narcissa raised her hands both into view and Snape eyed her warily. She slowly reached into her sleeve and withdrew her wand and stood to place it on the table. “I do not believe it is safe for me to remain neutral in this conflict,” she told Snape as she sat down again. “I will agree to the terms given, if you will do your best to at least allow me to spend some time with my son... if he will see me.”  
  
Snape pocketed Narcissa's wand. “I'm sure that will be possible.” He looked to Lucius.  
  
The older man did not meet his eyes, instead gazing at the prophecy, which he was toying with in one hand, the other out of sight and most likely resting on his wand. He looked tired. “I could of course attempt to take your life,” he said quietly, thoughtfully. “We are evenly matched I would think, in a duel. Of course not only would I need to defeat you, I would also need to evade the people you have stationed downstairs.”  
  
Snape said nothing.  
  
“And all for what?” Lucius said, mostly to himself. “A low level Ministry position should the Dark Lord succeed, assuming I lived long enough to see it that is? And my wife and son killed as traitors to the cause? Or should the Dark Lord fail, at best a life alone on the run and at worst the Dementor's Kiss for my pains.” He looked up at Snape and there was torment in his eyes. “So you see, your offer is largely irrelevant. I have already lost.” He placed the prophecy on the table and beside it his wand. “My son has already decided my fate, you are only required to lead me to it.”  
  
Snape nodded and put Lucius' wand away. It was over.


	24. The Ministry of the Mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have done a bunch of rewriting to bring this story more in line with canon. Basically I've rewritten Sirius to match with what we know about his life as canon in the books whereas he was AU before as I started writing this before Order of the Phoenix.

**Sat 27th Dec cont.**  
  
Sirius had awoken them briefly at eleven, but Harry had nodded back off almost immediately  leaving Sirius and Draco to let him know when the others had returned from Hogsmeade. He was understandably less anxious about the fate of Lucius Malfoy than Draco was, and far more exhausted then either of them.  
  
He had been dreaming restlessly about everything and nothing when he was awoken, not by Sirius, but by a roaring in his head.  
  
He was angry. No he was furious, and his head was splitting open from the scar of his forehead inwards. He heard screaming and only after listening to it for a moment did he realise it might well be his own.  
  
He had been betrayed. Harry Potter was lost again! But wait... he was Harry Potter? Wasn't he?  
  
Suddenly his open eyes saw an unfamiliar room, unfamiliar faces. His own hand reached out and it was pale white and long and the wand it clasped was one he had seen only a few times before.  
  
“Crucio,” he howled, pointing his wand at random towards the cowering figures about him.  
  
'No! Stop!' he tried to shout.  
  
And the curse was lifted. But suddenly he was being watched and he was the one watching. He was a snake swallowing it's own tail. His anger was sinking away to be replaced by surprise and excitement, but none of these emotions were his own.  
  
“Harry Potter,” he said to himself in another's voice. “It seems we are indeed joined. We are truly one.” A wild glee filled him.  
  
And suddenly he was back in Draco's room, but he was locked inside his own head. His eyes looked up at Draco and Sirius, who were crowded close to him looking worried. He sat up from where he had been lying on the floor, but his body was not his to control. Everything seemed to be happening down a very long tunnel as if he were looking through a telescope from far far away.  
  
“Draco Malfoy,” a voice said, his own voice said, but it was cold and strange in his throat.  
  
“Harry?” said Draco, he looked confused and frightened.  
  
“Step back, Draco,” said Sirius, pulling him back by the arm. “Something's not right.”  
  
“Nothing's wrong,” Harry felt himself say, the sound echoing strangely from a distance. “I'm fine.”  
  
“You were screaming,” said Draco from half way behind Sirius. “You fell off the bed, then you said Crucio, but you didn't have a wand and you were just pointing up at the ceiling. It was like you didn't even know we were here, you couldn't see us.” He was rambling the way he sometimes did when he felt panicked  
  
“A nightmare,” Harry's voice replied. “Help me up.”  
  
Sirius stepped fully in front of Draco and cautiously held out a hand for Harry to take. Harry's body stood up.  
  
This was nothing like Imperio. There was no euphoria, little room for his own emotions, he was not the one acting, and he couldn't seem to find anything to fight. His head was full of amorphous shadows, that slipped out of his grasp. He had to concentrate hard just to keep track of what his body was doing. It all seemed so far away, as if he were locked in his cupboard listening to the Dursley's talk about him through the keyhole...  
  
Locked in his cupboard, but not alone. There was something in here with him. Something that didn't belong.  
  
His eyes were looking around the room as if they didn't know it, they settled on his wand, lying on the bedside table. Harry tried to concentrate, he had to take back control, he had to stop his body from picking up his wand. But there was a monster behind him and if he didn't fight that too it would swallow him up.  
  
He glanced behind him... and realised the monster was Vernon Dursley. Looming over him, fists clenched and face furiously purple.  
  
“How dare you!” Uncle Vernon shouted. “Sullying my house! Polluting my family with your perverted ways!”  
  
Harry was reaching for his wand, he had to protect himself. Uncle Vernon knew, Dudley must have told him.  
  
“I'll beat it out of you if that's what it takes, boy,” Uncle Vernon screamed. Towering as large as Hagrid. “It's what I should have done years ago, it's the only thing that works.”  
  
Harry grabbed his wand and pointed it at Uncle Vernon. The roaring was in his ears again, and it was anger and glee and fear and a hatred so strong that it burned him.  
  
Uncle Vernon raised his fist, big enough to crush Harry's head with one blow. “Filth!”  
  
Harry could hear voices begging Uncle Vernon to stop, which was odd, but they were far away. “What are you doing?” they said. Or were they asking him to stop? “Harry?” they said. Draco's voice. Yes, Harry had to protect Draco from Uncle Vernon.  
  
“I'll kill you both,” shouted Uncle Vernon. “Rutting like animals in front of my son!”  
  
“No!” shouted Harry, his heart welling up with the desire to protect and shield Draco.  
  
Uncle Vernon seemed to stagger suddenly, and the shadows wavered.  
  
“Harry, stop!” shouted Draco, suddenly loud enough to catch Harry's attention. Someone was struggling with him, pushing his arm down.  
  
Uncle Vernon was shrinking and there was an overlay of Draco's room appearing. Draco's hands over his own, struggling to push his wand down and away from where it was pointed.  
  
Harry watched himself sweep one arm out, and with something that was half physical and half magical, he swept Draco off and threw him hard against the wall. “Wait your turn,” his voice said.  
  
He saw Draco's head smack the stone wall hard and he dropped to the floor like a broken toy.  
  
Harry's heart leapt into his throat and suddenly he was rushing through his own body, like the feeling coming back after pins and needles. All the strange emotions and thoughts were swept away by his terror at having hurt Draco and his need to go to him.  
  
But before he could step toward Draco his arms were pinned to his side by another body.  
  
'Uncle Vernon,' he thought, panicked, confused. He struggled against the arms, trying to get to Draco. He angled his wand up, and cast blindly. “Crucio!”  
  
The arms fell away and he spun around, wand outstretched to point more directly at... Sirius! Lying on the floor, already bleeding, and writhing in agony. His wand nowhere to be seen.  
  
Harry jerked his wand away in shock and Sirius fell limp.  
  
He was suddenly entirely aware of where he was, his mind totally clear. He didn't so much drop his wand as throw it away from himself in horror.  
  
Just then the door behind him flew open and Remus Lupin charged in. “Sirius!” He ran straight to the man crumpled on the floor.  
  
“I'm sorry,” croaked Harry.  
  
Sirius was breathing, but in shallow whimpers. Remus looked up, “Where are they?”  
  
“Who?”  
  
“The Death Eaters?”  
  
“There's nobody,” said Harry numbly, as Professor Dumbledore arrived in the doorway with Hagrid behind him. “It was me.”  
  
Professor Dumbledore strode into the room and past Harry, who turned around to follow him and saw Draco's crumpled body again.  
  
“Draco! Please... is he...” Harry choked as he took half a step towards them. He had hit Draco so hard that he could still feel it in his own arm.  
  
Professor Dumbledore turned from the fallen boy, “He is alive. Hagrid, please fetch Madam Pomfrey.” Dumbledore lifted Draco himself and laid him on the bed. Blood was trickling through Draco's hair and the right side of his face was swelling purple. “Tell me quickly, Harry. What has happened here?”  
  
“I... I think Voldemort was in my head,” answered Harry, trying to understand what had happened himself. “He was angry and I was there, and then he saw me, and then he was here. He was here, but inside me, and I was... I thought I was being attacked, I was trying to protect Draco... he threw Draco against the wall... Voldemort did I mean... then suddenly he was gone.”  
  
Dumbledore stepped cautiously toward Harry, eyes burrowing into him. “Do you feel any remnant of him still?”  
  
Harry searched his mind. “I don't think so. My head still aches, but as soon as I saw Draco was hurt I had control over myself again. Please... can I?” Harry stepped toward Draco again, desperate.  
  
“Very well,” said the Headmaster, letting him pass, but watching him carefully.  
  
Professor Lupin was helping Sirius to sit up.  
  
“Sirius, your patronus reached us, as you can see. What can you tell us?” asked Dumbledore.  
  
“Harry's eyes were red,” said Sirius. “Just faintly at first.” He groaned as Remus helped him into a chair. “Then he picked up his wand and when he turned back they were completely red. That's when I sent the patronus, but he disarmed me as I sent it. But it wasn't Harry, I'm sure of it.” Remus was fussing around him as he spoke, trying to locate where the blood was coming from. “He... used a few different curses, but not the killing curse. Diffindo, immobulus... He was trying to hit Draco, but I was in the way so he had to deal with me first. Then Draco tried to stop him, and that was when...” he gestured at the wall. “I managed to grab Harry from behind when he turned towards Draco, but he caught me with a Cruciatus... then when he turned back to me his eyes weren't red any more.” He looked away from Dumbledore to Remus, who was pulling at his shirt, and batted at him. “Remus, leave it. I'll be fine. Pomfrey can sort me out later.”  
  
“You always think you'll be fine,” muttered Remus, but he stepped back leaving only one hand on Sirius’ shoulder.  
  
Harry stood uselessly by the bed, watching Draco's chest rise and fall. His breathing was shallow and his face pale and grey where it wasn't bruising. “He couldn't keep a hold,” he realised.  
  
“What was that, Harry?” asked Dumbledore.  
  
“Voldemort. When he hurt Draco, and even before that, when I heard Draco's voice asking me to stop. He couldn't keep a hold of my mind. He started to lose his grip.”  
  
“Of course,” said Dumbledore thoughtfully. “You care deeply for Draco. Tom cannot abide the thought of caring for another, he is fuelled by his anger at the world and his need to use and control those around him. When your feelings for Draco came to the forefront of your mind he was forced out. Your strength, Harry, is your ability to love. Tom's weakness is his inability to do so. Love has always protected you from him, remember that Harry when anger threatens you. Love, and not hatred, will keep you and those you care for safe.” Dumbledore paused to consider the matter. “I do not believe Tom will try to control you again, in fact I do not think he would be able to even if he wished to try. Now that you know what will drive him out.”  
  
“But how did he get into my head in the first place?” Harry asked, feeling helpless.  
  
Madame Pomfrey entered the room then and immediately bustled Harry out of the way so that she could tend to Draco. Harry turned to look at Dumbledore.  
  
Dumbledore was once more studying him carefully. “I have long been aware that your scar connects you to Lord Voldemort, that it causes you pain when he is near, that it may even allow some small trickle of his emotions to touch you from time to time. But until now there had been no sign that he was aware of the connection, or that he could use it to his advantage. I misjudged things, I should have been more wary. When you escaped him before the summer he was still weak and unused to his new body. When you escaped from Malfoy Manor you had cast a strong Disanimus curse on him which must have taken him some time to fully recover from. But when he realised this time that you had evaded him again, and lost him both the prophecy and several of his closest Death Eaters, he was in his full power. In his desire to find you, to know where you were, to hurt you, he reached out to you and in his fury opened up the connection fully. We are fortunate that you are the man you are, Harry. You are too intrinsically good to be a functioning vessel for something so dark.”  
  
“I'm not sure that's true,” replied Harry despondently. “It wasn't Voldemort who cast Cruciatus on Sirius, he'd already gone... it was me.”  
  
Remus Lupin looked at him in surprise.  
  
“I didn't know who he was. When Voldemort was inside me... I thought Uncle Vernon was attacking me. But still... I cast an unforgivable on someone. I could have cast anything... stupefied him or immobilised him. But I didn't.”  
  
“I will need to take Mr Malfoy to the infirmary,” broke in Madame Pomfrey. “He requires potions that I don't have with me.”  
  
“We will all go to the infirmary,” said Dumbledore. “Sirius and Harry require care as well.”  
  
“I'm not hurt,” said Harry, even as he noticed just how badly his head was throbbing and how shaky his legs felt.  
  
“Maybe not physically,” said Dumbledore. “But you require rest and I think you would prefer to remain at Mr Malfoy's side?”  
  
“Yes!” Harry said quickly. “But... can you keep my wand for a bit? Just in case.”  
  
“Of course,” Dumbledore picked Harry's wand up from the ground where it lay and slipped it inside his robes.  
  
–  
  
Madame Pomfrey had given Harry a Sleeping Draught as soon as he had arrived in the infirmary, and ordered him to drink it as his mind needed sleep to heal itself of any residual damage. The last thing he had seen had been  Professor Lupin ordering Sirius to do as he was told and get into a bed.  
  
When Harry woke up again it appeared to be evening. He could hear quiet voices not far from where he lay and he turned slightly to see who they were. Two beds down he could see Draco awake in a bed speaking to Professor Snape and Narcissa Malfoy.  
  
Looking at Professor Snape he felt a roil of hatred inside him swelling up. He clamped down on it, frightened and unsure as to whether it was his own feeling or Voldemort. He had cast the Cruciatus curse on what he thought was his Uncle Vernon, could he cast it on Professor Snape? Did he want to? He remembered the breathless, eager face of the young Severus Snape, excited to be passing on useful information, damning his parents to an early grave and setting in motion events that had haunted every part of Harry's life from that moment on. Voldemort had destroyed Harry's childhood, but Severus Snape had drawn the bow that loosed him on the Potters. Was the fact that he regretted it, or so Dumbledore claimed, really enough to let such an act pass?  
  
He watched as Snape laid a hand on Draco's arm with an unusually open expression, he couldn't hear them well enough know what was being discussed. Draco trusted Snape, he knew that they were close, far closer than he was to his Head of House. But trust could be misplaced. And did it matter, did Harry care enough that he was on their side now, could it be enough that he had helped save Draco that night in the Forest? Could anything he did ever be enough?  
  
Love, Dumbledore had said. Love was his strength, not hate. Hate could give Voldemort access to his mind, but love would drive him out. Harry wasn't sure what that meant really, he knew he cared strongly for the people he considered family. That he would protect them with his life if necessary. But the other side of that love was a deep rage at anyone who might hurt them. And fear... fear that he wouldn't be strong enough. That they might all die one by one... like Arthur Weasley... like Cedric Diggory... like his parents.  
  
He knew he could feel hate. He had hated Sirius in third year when he thought he was the one to betray Harry's parents, hated him enough to want to kill him. But that hatred had taught him something, that you had to be careful who you hated because you might be wrong. If he had killed Sirius instead of listening to him, he would have lost a chance to know his godfather and through him his parents. And he would have been a murderer, the killer of an innocent man. No, Harry could still feel hate, but he was wary of it now. He would not let it have control of him.  
  
–  
**Sunday 28th Dec**  
  
Hermione had gone back home last night, once she was certain Harry and Draco were both all right. She had left Harry a note, as he had been asleep, and he had been given it with his breakfast.  Her parents were desperate to see her, since she had only gone to the Weasley's for Christmas dinner and had now been away for three days. She was sorry she couldn’t stay to talk to him, but she would see him on Wednesday for Arthur Weasley’s funeral. Harry’s relief at seeing Draco awake and unbruised was marred significantly by that reminder.  
  
Harry and Draco were let out of the infirmary after breakfast and Harry took them straight to visit Sirius, who had been released the day before while Harry was still asleep. Professor Lupin had already assured Harry that Sirius was fine, but Harry needed to see for himself.  
  
But Sirius wasn't to be found in his room. So Harry dragged Draco up to his dorm to check the Marauders Map for his location. They were half way up the last set of stairs when Harry stopped dead in his tracks.  
  
Just like before he was suddenly seeing through someone else's eyes, and the sight he was seeing was worryingly familiar. The grand entrance hall to the Ministry of Magic. He felt excited and angry at the same time, in the very way he had felt when Voldemort had viewed Draco through Harry's eyes only yesterday. A wild destructive passion with no taint of care for who might get hurt in the gaining of his desires. And his desire was to burn the Ministry to the ground. And yet that was held in check, that roiling endless need to destroy, to hurt, to own by breaking the thing, to allow no one else to have it. But Harry pulled himself out of that pit to understand what was really happening. He was here... no Voldemort was here... to take back what was his. He was here to free his captured Death Eaters and to take the prophecy which Harry Potter had failed to bring him.  
  
And with the thought of Harry himself, the anger and betrayal and renewed desire to end the boy who continually escaped him, blood or no blood, Harry tore himself back out of Voldemort's mind and found himself panting and sprawled precariously on the staircase with Draco stopping him from sliding to the bottom.  
  
Harry gasped and stared up at Draco's frightened face, upside down above him. “Dumbledore,” he managed to say through a dry throat. “I need to see Dumbledore, now!”  
  
Draco didn’t question him, just helped him to his feet, and together they stumbled back down the stairs.  
  
It took a gruelling age to get to the Headmaster’s office as Harry was continually stopped in his tracks by visions of Voldemort making his way through the halls of the Ministry accompanied by what seemed like a flood of masked Death Eaters. Every time he stumbled to the ground, creating more bruises, though each time he was a little more able to remain aware of himself.  
  
Voldemort sweeping through the entrance desks and leaving them afire. Voldemort watching his Death Eaters cutting a swathe through screaming office workers. Voldemort ripping the doors off the cells holding the Lestranges. Voldemort raging in fury as Rookwood told him that Lucius Malfoy had taken the prophecy and disappeared. Then Voldemort stopping outside of Peter Pettigrew’s cell and then laughing and laughing and laughing as Wormtail slowly realised he wasn’t going to be freed.  
  
The Headmaster stood before him. “Harry? Draco?”  
  
“The Ministry,” Harry gasped, still hearing that laughter in his head and feeling the frustrated angry amusement of Voldemort remembering the oath Harry had made him take. “Voldemort. He’s inside the Ministry!”  
  
Dumbledore looked as shocked as Harry had ever seen him. “I had not thought...” he rose to his feet, his eyes turning steely. “Stay here!” He said firmly, and stopping only to cast his patronus and mutter a message into the silvery phoenix’s ear, he cast floo powder into his fire and stepped into it saying, “The Ministry.”  
  
Harry and Draco stared into the green flames a moment, before they turned to one another.  
  
“What...” began Draco.  
  
But Harry was already being swept away in another vision.  
  
Voldemort was standing in an empty hallway staring into the face of a very surprised looking Cornelius Fudge. Harry could feel his pleasure at this unexpected gift. Fudge was supposed to be away for the holiday period, yet here he was, like a deer in headlights, mouth gaping.  
  
“I… You… He...” said Fudge.  
  
“Good day, Minister,” hissed Voldemort.  
  
“But you’re dead!” said Fudge in a burst.  
  
“Rumours of my demise seem to have been exaggerated,” replied Voldemort. “And rumours of my return seem to have been suppressed… by you, I believe, Minister.”  
  
“Me… I…. that is...”  
  
“Very helpful, thank you, Minister. But I no longer need to lurk in the shadows, I have done more than enough of that. And I have had quite enough of you… Crucio.”  
  
Harry tore himself away from the image of Fudge writhing and screaming. He knew what that Crucio felt like and couldn’t stomach seeing it cast on anyone, even an idiot like Fudge.  
  
Harry sat down in the nearest chair.  
  
“Should we just stay here?” Draco said. “I know Dumbledore said to… but I mean… shouldn’t we do something… tell someone else?”  
  
“I don’t know,” Harry was drained and frightened. With every vision he feared another attempt on his mind. “Maybe you should go, in case he comes here again.”  
  
“I’m not leaving you, Dumbledore said he wouldn’t be able to enter your mind again. That’s what you said.”  
  
“I know… but what if he does? I can’t seem to stop linking up to him. It won’t...”  
  
And he was back again, but this time it was fear he was feeling. The warning had reached Voldemort that Dumbledore was in the building. The Death Eaters were already scrambling to get away. Fortunately many of them had already left.  
  
Fudge lay at his feet, shaking and twitching. Voldemort looked down at him in disgust that this pathetic man was supposedly the leader of the Wizarding World. He raised his wand to finish him.  
  
But Harry had had enough, he reached out and wrenched at Voldemort’s will with a thunderous “No!”  
  
Voldemort stumbled back, almost dropping his wand.  
  
Harry felt him focus his attention towards him and quickly summoned up every sympathetic feeling he could, all the caring he could think of; Draco, his mother and father, Ron and Hermione, Sirius… and then he was back in the Headmaster’s office again. Kneeling on the floor in front of the chair he had been sat in.  
  
Draco was several feet away, his feet planted and his face white, his wand pointed shakily at Harry.  
  
“It’s okay,” said Harry hoarsely. “It’s me.”  
  
“You said it was okay last time,” Draco said dubiously.  
  
“Yeah,” Harry lay down on the floor on his back, exhausted. “I’m just going to lie here for a bit, so don’t curse me, okay?”  
  
“Okay,” said Draco.  
  
A few minutes later, when nothing had happened, he lowered his wand and sat down next to Harry.  
  
–  
**Monday 29th Dec**  
  
The Daily Prophet the next day was bold with the news, and no mention of their last six months of denials and attacks on Harry and Professor Dumbledore.  
  
'Voldemort Attacks Ministry!' the headlines screamed. 'Fudge in St. Mungo's! The Lestranges Escape Azkaban!'  
  
The paper was a mish mash of truth, speculation and outright lies. As the Ministry had never told the public about the breakout in Azkaban last week they had conflated the two stories and claimed Voldemort had only just broken the Lestranges and the other escaped Death Eaters out in order to attack the Ministry with them. The paper seemed to think that Voldemort had gone there to assassinate the Minister for Magic.  
  
Harry was none too fond of Fudge, but that had made it even more sickening to feel Voldemort's enjoyment at breaking him. The tiny part of Harry that disliked Fudge made him feel more responsible for the actions than he would had the victim been someone he cared about, as if Voldemort might have somehow known how Harry felt and made the torment worse as a result.  
  
Dumbledore still hadn’t returned to the school, but Snape had arrived in the Headmaster’s office not long after Harry’s last vision and taken the two boys to the infirmary, again. At least this time Harry hadn’t had to stay overnight, but he had been forced to tell Snape in detail everything that he had experienced over and over again until he thought maybe he could Crucio him after all. Sirius had finally rescued Harry from Snape’s clutches mid afternoon.  
  
“I want to see you back here tomorrow evening, Potter,” Snape informed him as he stood to leave. “Dumbledore wants me to begin teaching you Occlumency, clearly this connection to the Dark Lord needs to be controlled.”  
  
“What’s Occlumency?” asked Harry.  
  
“A magical defence of the mind, it requires great skill and concentration, so I expect it to be a thankless task,” answered Snape.  
  
“I can teach him,” said Sirius.  
  
Snape eyed him wearily. “Could you,” he said, his voice deep with sarcasm.  
  
“You’re not the only wizard who knows Occlumency!” retorted Sirius.  
  
“I am, however, the only wizard who has remained for years an undiscovered spy in the court of the greatest Legilimens the wizarding world knows. Whereas you barely comprehend the basics.”  
  
“Why would Voldemort ever doubt a greasy bastard like you, probably didn’t even occurred to him that you weren’t evil through and through.”  
  
“Oh, stop it, both of you,” shouted Harry in frustration.  
  
Sirius had the decency to look a bit sheepish.  
  
Snape just arched an eyebrow at the outburst. “Emotional control is, of course, vital for success in Occlumency,” he noted.  
  
“And yet you can’t seem to stop yourself winding up Sirius whenever you can,” Harry snapped.  
  
Snape’s face darkened dangerously. “It would behove you to remember that I am a Professor and you are a student, mind both your emotions and your tongue. You will be in my office at 7pm tomorrow, lateness will be penalised. And if Black wishes to impart his vast knowledge of the subject to you, he is welcome to do so at any other time. Now get out, both of you.”  
  
Recognising that they had pushed their luck far enough, they left Snape to himself.  
  
–  
**Tuesday 30th December**  
  
When Harry arrived at Snape’s office at 6.55pm he was already nervous. He hadn’t seen any more visions of Voldemort, but Sirius had talked to him a bit about Occlumency already and quite frankly it sounded really hard. Sirius had admitted that he did only know the basics and that he never had the concentration to be terribly good at it. But that Harry was absolutely not to let Snape know that under pain of death.  
  
Sometimes Sirius seemed to think he and Professor Snape were still school boys, he wasn’t really grown up the same way as the teachers at school or Mr and Mrs Weasley were. Harry wondered if that was because of Azkaban or if it was just what he was like, and if his father would have been like that, or more serious like Professor Lupin was.

And then he suddenly realised he had been thinking about Mr Weasley as if he were still alive, and the death hit him again like a punch in the gut. He considered just walking away.

But it would just be putting off the inevitable, he knocked on Snape’s door.

“On time for once, Potter.”  
  
Snape looked no more pleased to see him than he was to be there. But he had lain awake last night thinking about how he was going to deal with this, and he’d made up his mind to just get it over with. So he did. “I know what you did,” he told Snape as soon as he was through the door. “I know it was you that told him.”  
  
Snape did not seem surprised or confused by the topic. “The Headmaster informed me of what you saw, when he gave me this task. He was concerned that it might… disrupt our lessons. Of course I told him that I was unfortunately already quite used to your lack of respect and inability to pay attention.”  
  
“Give me one good reason why I should listen to anything you have to say when you got my parents killed!” Harry challenged him.  
  
And at that he did see a small flinch in the man’s face. Snape drew a cloth from what turned out to be Professor Dumbledore’s pensieve, it already contained a swirling memory of some sort. “The Headmaster allowed me to view your memory of what occurred when you were away, before he returned it to you. In return for that invasion of privacy I offer this, if you wish to view it.”  
  
“What is it?” said Harry, hesitant.  
  
“Some of my memories of your mother,” Snape replied, his voice slightly hoarse.  
  
Harry stared at the swirling silver surface in surprise, still not entirely willing to trust him. But as he watched he could see glimpses of a pair of green eyes in a pale face with dark red hair. He took a step closer, and looked up at Snape again.  
  
“Go ahead,” he said in a voice clear of any antagonism or sarcasm.  
  
So Harry dipped his head into the bowl.  
  
(For the memories Harry sees please see verbatim from Deathly Hallows (UK edition), pages 532-541 and 543-544. The memory of Lily and Snape meeting, the memory of them talking and Petunia spying on them, the memory of them at Kings Cross, then on the Hogwarts Express and then being Sorted, the memory of them discussing what happened with Remus Lupin, the memory of their argument after he calls her a mudblood but not the scene by the lake where it happened, the memory of Snape going to Dumbledore about the prophecy, and the memory of him speaking to Dumbledore after the Potters death.)

When Harry stood back up from the Pensieve he didn’t know what to say.  
  
They looked at each other in silence.  
  
Snape broke it, business-like but quiet. “We will have our first proper lesson after the New Year. Friday evening at the same time will suffice. In the meantime I would like you to spend half an hour three times a day trying to clear your mind of all thoughts. I suggest doing so in the evening before bed and at any two other suitable times.”  
  
Harry just nodded his understanding, still staring at this man he no longer seemed to know.  
  
“Then you may go.”  
  
Harry turned silently and left the room.


	25. Goodbyes

**Weds 31st Dec**  
  
Harry travelled with Professor Lupin and Professor Dumbledore, still feeling queasy from the polyjuice potion he had swallowed just before they left. He would have to leave as soon as the service was finished, that was why Professor Lupin had come with them, to take Harry back to school. Harry was masquerading as Ron’s cousin Barny, if anyone asked, by way of some hair stolen from a red headed Muggle by one of the Order. It was considered too risky for him to attend the funeral as himself. There was a large Auror presence, but there was only so secure the funeral could be with so many people wanting to attend.  
  
They took a portkey to a quiet spot behind the church and made their way around to where a large crowd was assembled outside in the sharp, cold frost of the afternoon.  
  
There was a large wizarding section to the graveyard by the parish church, visible only to magical folk. It was beautiful even in the cold starkness of winter, some of the wizarding tombs were striking and detailed, with statues that seemed to watch you as you went by, and plants that flowered magically even in the snow.

Ottery St Catchpole had housed the Weasley family and several other wizarding families in it’s surrounds for generations. It was known for being a community that integrated well with the Muggles and for being open minded and friendly. As a result there had been a lot of deaths from among it’s families in the first war with Voldemort, and now the graveyard must get ready to bear the dead of the brewing second war.  
  
And Arthur Weasley was not the first casualty, they passed the Diggory family plot on the way to the quietly murmuring crowd. Seeing Cedric’s name carved harshly into granite made Harry shiver, he had not attended the funeral. He doubted the family would have wanted him there even if he had been up to going. It had been over before he even knew it was happening. There was a fresh wreath of yellow flowers lying on the ground. He paused only momentarily, Cedric’s face suddenly vivid in his mind. He should come back here, when he was able. _‘Sorry,’_   he thought at the cold stone. _‘It might be a while.’_  
  
The crowd parted for Albus Dumbledore, but Lupin held Harry back from following him, pulling him smoothly in amongst the other people. Eventually they found themselves a few rows back from the front, Harry saw Hermione with her parents not far away from them. The Weasleys were a wall of red hair and assorted dark clothes making up the front row, Mrs Weasley and Ginny the only ones readily identifiable to Harry from behind. They were standing together, Mrs Weasley had her arms tightly around Ginny’s shoulders.

Arthur Weasley’s body was in a closed casket at the front, waiting to be put into the Weasley family crypt in front of which they stood. Harry didn’t want to look at it, but couldn’t look away from it. Mr Weasley was in there, dead. Yet his face smiled amiably at the crowd from a frame next to the podium, unaware of it’s own passing.

Harry felt strangely isolated, wearing someone else’s face. His friends so close and yet seemingly a world away in the grief that had a hold of them all. He still felt responsible. He knew they didn’t blame him, would never blame him. But he blamed himself. He would always blame himself. For forgetting his wand, for being selfish enough to go there in the first place, instead of staying at the Dursleys where they would have been safe. Cedric had not been his fault, he couldn’t have known what would happen that day. But this was.  
  
He clenched at his wand where it was tucked into his trousers. Was he being selfish again? Coming here? What if someone realised who he was? What if someone had seen him arrive with Dumbledore and put two and two together? He suddenly very much wanted to be back at school. But leaving now would be even more suspicious.  
  
The service was starting, and Harry tried to put his thoughts aside and listen. A man from the Ministry that Harry didn’t recognise spoke first. He said the Minister would have been here if he could, but he was still in St Mungo’s. That Arthur was a valued member of the wizarding community and that his brave actions in defending his family would be remembered.

Very few people even knew that Harry had been there that day, the official line was that it had been a random attack. Although the Prophet was now suggesting it had been somehow related to the recent Ministry attack, that perhaps Arthur Weasley had been more important than just working in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office suggested. Harry thought Mr Weasley would have liked being thought of as some sort of Wizarding James Bond, he had fond memories of explaining who James Bond was to him at the same time as Mr Weasley tried to explain what Unspeakables did and how they differed from Aurors, one sunny morning over the Weasley kitchen table.  
  
Harry ducked his head as the man’s speech came to an end and Professor Dumbledore stepped up to speak. He didn’t want to start crying in case he drew attention to himself.  
  
“Arthur Weasley,” began Albus Dumbledore. “Was a good and a fair man, in a world that was often unfair. He was kind, no matter how unkind the circumstances. I knew Arthur Weasley as both a boy and a man, I knew him as his teacher and, I hope, as his friend. He deserved a long life and the chance to watch his children grow up and have children of their own.”  
  
Harry saw Mrs Weasley bury her head into whichever son was next to her and began to sob. He thought it might be Charlie.  
  
“When someone is taken from us so swiftly and so unexpectedly it leaves a hole inside us, where they were,” continued Dumbledore. “It leaves us unsteady and shaken. But as a community we can draw together and support one another. Instead of leaving weakness behind we can build a new strength and a new determination to live as they would have wanted us to live. To take their sacrifice, so bravely made, and fight for what they believed in. For the time has come for fighting. And already Arthur Weasley is not the only death being mourned. Arthur was everything Lord Voldemort despised. He was a pureblood who loved the Muggle world, who protected them from wizards who would harm them, and who welcomed muggleborns into his home. He was the very best we can be; humble and yet strong, kind and yet fierce, welcoming and open minded but never flagging in demanding we act in ways that are just. I cannot think of a more suitable man to have brought seven wonderful children into our world, for we need more witches and wizards like Arthur Weasley. Our world is made better by their presence.”  
  
Harry almost felt buoyed up by Professor Dumbledore’s speech, which was surely as it had been intended. But at the same time he felt he had no right to stand here and feel good about anything. Fortunately, or unfortunately, the feeling did not last long. The final person to stand up to speak was Bill Weasley, and Harry had never seen him look so uncertain. Bill had always seemed so smooth and in control and cheerful. The man before them looked shaky and lost.  
  
“My Father,” began Bill, having to stop as his voice broke. He cleared his throat and swiped at his dry eyes. “My Father,” he began again, still hoarse. “Died a hero. I knew he was a competent wizard, but I had never seen him fight. I knew him as a quiet, peaceful man who worked in an office. I thought I was the one who knew about taking risks, me with my curse breaking, Charlie with his dragons. We thought we were the tough ones. We were too young to really understand what was happening in the first war, we knew that he had fought then, but it seemed a long way away. Not until last week had I ever understand that my Father… my Dad,” he had to pause again and Harry could hear the combined weeping of the Weasley family, could see shoulders shaking with a depth of grief he did not think he could understand. Bill swallowed back his own tears. “… was a soldier. He threw himself into battle with no thought for his own safety, only for protecting his family. And he won that battle, barely a scratch on any of us. He took it all, because he loved us and he wouldn’t let those bastards have any of us. He died for us, he died for me...” and then Bill did break down, and Charlie passed his Mum to the twins so he could fetch him down from the little wooden podium at the front.  
  
The man in charge said some words that Harry didn’t hear. All he could hear was the crying, it cut into his heart.  
  
He turned around and found Professor Lupin standing not far behind him and he stepped back until he could feel the heat of his body in the chill air. “Can we go now, please,” he whispered.  
  
They made their way slowly back until they had passed out of the crowd.  
  
“Are they always like that?” Harry asked quietly.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Funerals. So...” Harry couldn’t find the words for the way his insides felt.  
  
Somehow Professor Lupin seemed to understand. “Ah. Not always… but war funerals. Yes. I suppose so. You get used to it a little, but maybe it’s better if you don’t… get used to it that is.”  
  
Harry nodded and they rounded the corner to where they could use the portkey back.  
  
–  
  
Draco hadn’t seen his father since he had betrayed him to save Harry. He wasn’t at all sure he wanted to see him now. But Professor Snape and his mother had talked him into it finally.  
  
“Your Father and I will be leaving this afternoon,” his Mother was telling him as he was led through the corridors to Professor Snape’s private quarters, where his father had been staying since their arrival. “Professor Snape will bring me to the school once a month to visit with you, but your Father will not be accompanying me. So this might be your last opportunity in a long time to speak with him, Draco.”  
  
“I don’t see that we have anything to say to each other, Mother,” he complained, although with no real heat as it was the umpteenth time he had pointed that out.  
  
“Your Father has risked his life coming here,” his Mother warned him. “Show a little maturity.”  
  
Draco did not reply. His parents tended to make him feel like the eleven year old pretending to be a grown up he had been when he started at Hogwarts. Especially his Father.  
  
Professor Snape drew his wand to unlock the strongly warded door, nobody was taking any chances with Lucius Malfoy no matter what he said.  
  
They had to pass through two sets of warded doors to reach the room his Father and Mother had been occupying. Draco had been in Snape’s personal quarters before, but never in his bedroom which they were now entering. He wondered where Snape was sleeping, anything but think about the fact he was about to see his Father again. His palms were sweating.  
  
Lucius Malfoy was sitting on the edge of a tidily made double bed, dressed in clothes that didn’t look like his own and with hair that was somewhat less than perfect.  
  
Draco stopped as soon as he saw him, startled at his appearance.  
  
His Father looked up at him, and even his gaze did not hold the certainty Draco was used to. It reminded him of that one faltering moment when his Father had thrust a wand and a key into his hands and told him to run. When he had finally believed that Draco couldn’t stay, when he had believed that…. When he had believed him.  
  
“Draco,” his Father said, with a small relieved smile.  
  
“Father,” Draco said cautiously.  
  
“Your Mother has explained?”  
  
“You’re going into hiding and Professor Snape will be your secret keeper,” Draco replied.  
  
“Going into hiding,” Lucius repeated thoughtfully. “That almost sounds as if we still have some control, a nice thought. But incorrect. We are being taken into hiding, where we will be held until Dumbledore sees fit to release us.”  
  
“Lucius,” his Mother murmured. “Professor Dumbledore is...”  
  
“Yes, yes, I know,” his Father snapped. “I should be grateful for his protection when he could cut me loose until one faction or other manages to kill me.” He did not sound angry so much as frustrated, although he did give Draco a dark look. “You had better hope your choices hold out for us, Draco. You have left us with little else to fall back upon.”  
  
“My choices!”  
  
“Yes, your choices!” his Father was angry now. “Do you think I would be here if it were not for your choices?”  
  
“I could say the same to you!” Draco shouted back. “What other option did your choices give me!”  
  
They glared at each other for a moment, breathing a little hard.  
  
“I just…. I meant that we have to see this through now,” his Father said finally. “We can’t change our minds." His voice grew quietly intense. "You must stick with the Potter boy, no matter what. Do you understand me? I don’t care if the shine wears off for either of you, you have to be sure to keep him interested. As long as the Dark Lord is still out there, we need him far more than he needs us.”  
  
Draco blushed. “Harry wouldn’t just … drop us if we broke up. Not that we are going to break up! But he wouldn’t any way, he’s not like that.”  
  
“Don’t be naive, Draco,” his Father chided.  
  
“I’m not being naive, I’m just not being cynical, because I know him and you don’t. He’s not like that.” Draco repeated firmly.  
  
“People change, and teenage romances rarely last a lifetime, this may be a long war yet… and the outcome is far from certain. I am… I am trusting you Draco. Trusting your choice. I had other options, but I chose to bring your Mother and I here because this is what you have chosen. Don’t make me regret my decision.”  
  
Draco realised his father looked old, he had never really looked old before. “I won’t,” he said. “You won’t.”  
  
His Father nodded, not believing, but perhaps wanting to believe. “I won’t see you again for some time, but you can send letters with Severus if you wish to.”  
  
“I will,” said Draco.  
  
Things were suddenly awkward as they both tried to figure out how to say goodbye. His Father stood up and after a moment offered Draco his hand.  
  
Draco took it and they shook hands, but as he drew back his Father stepped forward and pulled him into an unexpected hug. He nearly panicked at first, but when he wasn’t suddenly apparated or portkeyed away he relaxed again. His Father hadn’t hugged him since he was six years old.  
  
When they drew back both of their eyes were suspiciously bright and if they had been looking they would have seen Narcissa Malfoy smiling at them and Snape rolling his eyes.  
  
“Try not to get yourself killed,” Lucius muttered, turning away.  
  
“Yeah,” said Draco. “You too, I guess.”  
  
He hugged his mother longer and far more easily and promised her he would write as often as Snape had time to deliver letters.  
  
By the time he left her eyes were wet too, and he had to stop outside Snape’s quarters and pull himself together before he felt ready to walk through the school again. Even if hardly anyone was about.  
  
Snape walked him back to his room.  
  
“I suppose you can’t tell me where you’re taking them,” he said after a bit.  
  
“No,” replied Snape.  
  
“Will they still be in Britain?” he fished.  
  
Snape gave him a quelling glare.  
  
“All right, I’ll stop asking. They will be all right though, do you think?”  
  
“Safer than you and I, no doubt,” Snape replied wryly.  
  
–

**The New Year**

  
It was a strangely quiet spring and summer term after the eventfulness of the previous year.  
  
There were a couple of quiet expulsions in February, seventh years who were removed for what was termed persistent defiance of school codes. Which really meant being as good as Death Eaters already, with their House Heads and the Headmaster having had no success in turning their path.  
  
Mrs Malfoy visited the school once a month, under Professor Snape's supervision. She and Lucius Malfoy were hidden under a Fidelius charm somewhere and even Draco didn't know where. Though Draco wrote long letters to them every week about what he was doing and how the school was and any news from the wizarding world.  
  
Ron and Ginny came back to school only a few days late at the end of the Christmas holidays, but the twins never returned. They had written to Harry, as their main investor, and said that life was too short not to live it, so they were setting up the joke shop now instead of waiting to graduate. Besides they thought they could do more for the growing war effort outside of the school.  
  
And the war effort was in full swing despite Voldemort having disappeared again after his attempt to control Harry had failed. The Order of the Phoenix, of whom Harry had now met several members, was making sure they would be ready for whatever came next, and at least the new Minister, a man called Scrimgeour, believed Voldemort was actually back.  
  
Harry worked hard at his Occlumency lessons for fear of ever letting Tom into his mind again. It wasn't so bad, he wasn't great at it, and he and Snape still didn't get along, but they had come to an understanding of sorts.  
  
And together Harry and Dumbledore were starting to explore Tom Riddle's past in odd trips into Dumbledore's pensieve. So far he'd  met Tom Riddle's parents and grandfather, and seen Tom Riddle meet Dumbledore for the first time in the orphanage where he'd grown up.  
  
And seeing where Tom Riddle had come from, Harry did feel as if he understood better what had made him into the man he had become. And unsettlingly saw the layer upon layer of similarities that seemed to bind them. Their mother's both dying for them, growing up alone and unloved... and he had felt pity for that boy who wanted to be special. For hadn't he come to Hogwarts wanting to be special too?  
  
And despite everything he never really had felt special. He had felt lucky, when he had come to Hogwarts, but still deep down he had felt like maybe he didn’t deserve that luck. Didn’t deserve to live when others died. Didn’t deserve the way people looked to him.  
  
But that had changed this year. That had changed with Draco.  
  
He still had his moments of insecurity, but when he was with Draco he did feel special. And that was the best feeling in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be another story added to the series, but it will be a series of vignettes covering book 6 and book 7, highlighting what changes due to the events in Marks and Circles. Largely book 6 and book 7 happen the same as in canon with a few unavoidable differences. Thank you for reading.


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